Clue the Sequel: Catherine's Turn
by MissBrownClue13
Summary: Wadsworth and his new wife Charlotte invite former guests Miss Scarlett and Professor Plum for dinner to celebrate the reunion of their friendship and introduce their daughters Catherine and Dana. But with this happy reunion returns dark secrets...
1. Introductions

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Clue, the characters or the boardgame 'Cluedo'. Those are copyright of Paramount Pictures and Parker and Waddingtons Games. The only characters I own are Catherine, Dana and Mary, and their relations to the other characters.**

**This story is dedicated to my fellow Clue the Movie fans (you know who you are) and anyone who wondered what happened next.**

CLUE THE SEQUEL: Catherine's Turn**  
**

BY Galindagirl13

The Wadsworths were a decidedly unusual family. Catherine 'Cathy' Jane Wadsworth had an English father and an American mother. They lived in a huge old house namely Hill House which had fallen into disrepair over the past twelve years since Wadsworth himself had had to pay out a lot of money and now the three people were surviving on barely 200 dollars a month. Cathy wasn't as well off as the family she had often heard her parents talk about, The Plums, which she thought sounded rather amusing, but they were due to arrive for a dinner party and everything had to be perfect for them.

The doorbell rang. Wadsworth, Cathy's father marched across the hall in his butler manner and opened the door.

"Ah, yes, do come in, Mr and Mrs Plum. It is a pleasure to have you here at Hill House."

The former Miss Scarlet, now Mrs Plum took off her coat revealing a sparkling silk dress and diamonds at her throat.

"Miss Scarlet, what a pleasure it is to see you again." Wadsworth told her, as he placed their coats into the cloakroom.

"Dana, come inside!" Called Philip Plum to his daughter. A pretty, vivacious twelve year old walked into the house. Unlike her mother, she wasn't wearing a coat, but she didn't need to. Her pretty red dress complimented her thoroughly. She tossed her auburn curls back and smiled innocently at her father.

"Dana, meet…"

"My daughter, Catherine." Explained Wadsworth, beckoning a waif-like girl dressed in a simple black dress and white apron forward. She had chestnut coloured hair cut harshly in a bob and rather large greenish brown eyes that seemed to give her a permanent surprised look. Dana immediately saw the resemblance of Catherine in Wadsworth.

The two girls surveyed each other for a moment and then Katherine held her hand out.

"Hello, my name is Cathy."

"Hi, I'm Dana."

"Well, I can see that we're not needed. Would you care to come this way, Mr and Mrs Plum?" Wadsworth led the two people to a bench next to the dining room whilst he finished polishing the silver.

"Er…welcome to Hill House." Cathy added quickly, sensing a rather tense silence.

"Thanks. Oh, these are my folks. Joanna and Philip Plum. My mommy's a housewife and Daddy's president of U.N.O W.H.O."

"Oh." Replied Cathy, completely in awe of the visitor, "My father's a…butler…well, he used to be. He doesn't really have a job now."

"I love your accent. What is it? It sounds like the accents in those old films."

"English." Replied Cathy, "but of course, Mother's American so sometimes it slips in, much to Father's annoyance. I do love your dress. It's so pretty."

"Mommy's got one just like it. Daddy bought it for me in New York. Have you ever been to New York?"

"No." Cathy muttered sadly, "shall I show you the house?"

"Go right ahead."

"Not yet, Catherine." Interrupted Wadsworth, "you have to help your mother and I at the table."

"Yes, Father." Cathy answered obediently. She hated being addressed as Catherine, it seemed cold and formal, but Cathy sounded much more relaxed.

"Do you do everything your parents tell you to do?" Dana asked.

"I suppose so. My father gets rather cross. You know, being English and all…"

Wadsworth sounded the gong.

"Dinner is served." He announced proudly, leading his guests through to the dining room.

"Gosh, this room brings back so many memories…" Exclaimed Miss Scarlet.

"Yeah, do you remember old Peacock and that pointless rabble about meeting us for the first time…?" Scoffed Philip Plum, amusedly.

Miss Scarlet laughed.

"Yeah, that was funny. But we were all really nervous that night, what with Mr Boddy and everything…"

"It is splendid to have you here as our guests, I would like to propose a toast to Philip and Joanna Plum. May they share many happy years together."

Everyone raised their glasses to the couple and Dana, who sat next to them smiled smugly.

"Who is Mr Boddy?" Hissed Cathy to Dana as she placed a plate in front of her. Dana shrugged.

"Catherine, no whispering at the table. Remember what I have taught you. The butler serves without conversation or comment, as do the maids and hand servants." Wadsworth reprimanded her.

Dana sniggered at this and her mother shot her a glare. Mrs White took her seat opposite Miss Scarlet and began to eat her soup. She had learnt not to slurp the dish now, and had acquired better table manners.

"So how is your work, Mr Plum?" She asked.

"Honestly, Mrs White, you don't have to refer to me as Mr Plum. Philip will do just fine."

"Ok, then. How is your work…Philip?"

"Just fine, thank you."

"Your daughter is a beauty. I remember the first time I met you," She added to Miss Scarlet, "she is the image of you."

"Why, thanks." Replied Miss Scarlet, "So what do we call you and Wadsworth?" She paused. "Of course, we never revealed our names." Miss Scarlet realised, "well, I'm Joanna, but I don't mind if you still want to call me Scarlet."

"In that case, I am Charlotte, and of course, this is Wadsworth."

"You're not going to reveal your name, Mister?" Questioned Dana.

"I don't see that there would be any reason to." Replied Wadsworth, in his calm butler manner, "I dispensed with using my forename many years ago."

"Isn't that a bit strange, though?" Murmured Dana, and her mother gave her a sharp tap on the arm.

"Sorry about that, Wadsworth, our daughter is not very aware of your honorary profession." Explained Philip Plum, crossly.

"Not at all. I'm pleased that we could invite you here as our guests…oh, for heaven's sake, Katherine! Watch what you're doing." Cathy, who had been listening eagerly to the conversation, had allowed a bowl of soup to tilt and stain the pristine white tablecloth. Wadsworth rushed to remove the stain and quickly ushered Cathy to the serving hatch where she picked up a tray.

"I am so sorry, Professor, sir." He apologised profusely, dabbing at the stain.

"Leave it, Wadsworth." Charlotte instructed firmly, and Wadsworth, looking slightly annoyed, tidied his uniform and went to the serving hatch where he arranged the four dishes of hot steaming meat pie onto the tray and with a scathing glance at his daughter, presented the guests and his wife with next course in perfect calibre.

Dana took one bite of her pie and screwed up her face.

"What's the matter, Dana?" Asked Joanna Scarlet.

"What's wrong with it?" Asked Cathy crossly. She was becoming tired of Dana's apparent snobbish attitude. Wadsworth marched over to his daughter seized her by arm and took her into the kitchen.

"Don't you ever let me hear you address a guest in that manner again! You should say 'the dish is not to your taste?' if you must comment at all, otherwise you must remain silent." Wadsworth scolded crossly.

"It makes a boring dinner party, then, doesn't it, Father?"

Wadsworth's face contorted with anger.

"I am trying to make you the best that you can be, and this is how I am repaid! I am training you so that you will be ready, when the time comes, to go into employment, and you will get the best positions in grand households, instead of waiting as I had to, to reach your peak. You will be ready."

"But Father, you don't understand…" Retorted Cathy, "I don't…"

"Not another word on the subject, Catherine. You will be extremely grateful one day." He paused and brushed off her shoulders, "now, go back into the dining room, and behave as I have taught you to." Cathy reluctantly made her way back into the dining room and stood against the wall in almost a copy of her father's posture.

"How is your meal, Miss Dana?" She asked Dana.

"It is delicious. I am sorry I rejected it."

"Cathy, there is no reason to address my daughter as 'Miss'. She is rather self-centred enough without adding to it." Commented Joanna Scarlet.

"Thank you, Miss Scarlet."

"No, you may call me Joanna."

"Very well then, Joanna."

"That's better."

The guests finished the second course in silence and whilst Cathy helped her father prepare the desserts in the kitchen, the adults had some time to talk.

"I must apologise for Cathy." Charlotte explained sadly, "Wadsworth is training her to be a head housemaid."

"I thought so. Charlotte, I hope you don't mind me saying this, but she doesn't seem very happy."

"She's always been a quiet girl. Even as a baby she didn't speak much. You know how babies normally chatter? Well, she didn't. Wadsworth tried to get her talking properly but she wouldn't, she just doesn't seem to like it much."

"She's like a copy of her father." Agreed Joanna, "so prim and proper. I remember the first time I saw Wadsworth. Philip and I were standing outside in the rain, and he opened the door and said 'Professor Plum and Miss Scarlet? I didn't realise you were acquainted.' So, how long after that did you two finally decide to get married?"

"Well, it was the following Fall. Of course, after all that happened, he was a little anxious, but we soon worked it out and then when Cathy was born, we just knew that we'd made the right decision. She's not very talkative, as I said, but she's very sincere and has an amazing memory, like her father."

"Catherine! How many more times? You do not put the jelly on top of the cream. The cream comes afterward!" They heard Wadsworth scold.

"Oh, and of course, Wadsworth refuses to address Cathy as Cathy. It must be an English thing. I just go along with it."

"Catherine! I will not have that language used in my presence. Go up to your bedroom now and wash your mouth out with soap, young lady!"

Cathy sauntered out of the kitchen and through the archway up the stairs. Dana, deciding that she couldn't bear to listen to any more 'grown up talk' followed her.

Cathy slammed her bedroom door and threw herself on her bed. She doubted that Dana would have such a plain room. Hearing a knock at the door and thinking it was her father come to scold her, Cathy threw her old doll at it.

"Cathy, it's me, Dana. Can I come in?"

Cathy hastily rubbed her eyes and went to the door.

"Yes, you can come in."

Dana opened the door into the dark and dingy room which belonged to Cathy. It was nothing compared to her own red splendour but obviously Cathy wasn't as well off as she was.

"This is your room?" She asked in her snobbish tone.

"Yes." Replied Cathy sadly.

"Where's your radio? Your posters?" Dana asked taking in the faded pink wallpaper and once crimson carpet frayed at the edges with dusty old furniture crammed in.

Cathy quickly hurried to her desk, attempting to hide an old gramophone.

Dana gave her a soft shove and gave a harsh laugh when she saw the old music player.

"That's your radio? Huh?"

Cathy nodded.

"It's a bit primitive, isn't it?"

"It's all we've got." Replied Cathy.

"I take it your Daddy doesn't earn much?"

"No, it's not a popular job now."

"Obviously." Agreed Dana, picking the doll Cathy had thrown at the door up off the floor. It was a cheap rag doll wearing a maid's outfit.

"Is your Daddy kind of controlling?"

"Yes." Sighed Cathy, "I don't want to be a head housemaid in some crummy house. I want to be…I want to be…"

"Yeah?" Dana asked eagerly.

"I want to be…a teacher."

"A Teacher?"

"Yes. What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing…it's just…all the stuff you could do…and you want to be some boring teacher."

"I haven't got a hope anyway. I can't…"

"You can't what, huh?"

"I can't…I can't…write." Cathy stammered, hoping that Dana wouldn't laugh. Instead, Dana sat down next to her on the bed and put her arm around her.

"You never learnt to write?"

"No, Father doesn't see it as important for the occupation I have to follow." She spat bitterly, "I keep asking him, but he always says that he's too busy."

Dana patted the girl's hand encouragingly.

"Can't you talk to him? Is he really that hard to get along with?"

"Yes, he is. He's a controlling freak."

"I thought my parents were bad, but your Daddy is something else. Your Mommy says it's because he's English."

Cathy laughed.

"That's funny. I wish I didn't have this ridiculous accent, but Father says all butlers and housemaids have what they call…eloquent English accents."

"Ah. But your Mommy's American…"

"My father taught me to talk."

"Oh, right. Can't you tell your Mommy that you don't want to be a butler or whatever?"

Cathy laughed again.

"Firstly, let me get this straight for you. Butlers are the male heads of the servants; housemaids are the female heads of the servants, either that or the housekeeper."

"I get it now." Dana exclaimed. "You know, your room's not so bad."

"Thanks. Tell me all about your home. What's it like?"

"It's all modern and gold and red. Mommy loves red. My bed is a four poster, and it has a carved heart headboard and there's a beautiful dressing table edged in gold with a crimson plush velvet seat. My bathroom is also red and gold."

"You have your own bathroom? With hot and cold water?"

"Yes, of course." Dana paused, "Why? Don't you have your own bathroom with hot and cold water?"

"Well," Began Cathy, "we're meant to have proper hot and cold water, but according to Mother, Father damaged it fourteen years ago when he mistook the handle for the shower for a door, and at the time, the electricity had blown, so the whole system was corrupted."

"For someone who can't write, you sure know some fancy words."

"Oh, thank you." Cathy opened her bedside drawer and pulled out a book, dropping a sheet of paper on the floor. Dana picked it up.

"Does all your furniture come from the house or did you buy it?"

"It used to be Mother and Father's but they recently found some of the old pieces in the attic so they have dusted them down and given the old furniture to me. What is that?" She asked Cathy, pointing at the sheet of paper. Dana cleared her throat.

"It will be to your advantage to be present on this date for a Mr Boddy will bring to an end a long standing and painful financial agreement. Signed: A Friend. What does it mean, Cathy?"

"It means…that something happened here on that date. I'm sure I've heard that name before. Boddy. Mr Boddy…" she trailed off, thinking hard. "Of course! Father worked for a Mr Boddy."

"Your daddy worked for this 'Mr Boddy'?"

"Yes. I'm sure there are others of these. Father keeps all his letters and documents locked away in the library."

"So how do we get in there?"

"We don't." Replied Cathy. "My father will kill me if he catches me anywhere near his desk."

"He doesn't have to know. Let me see where they are. They definitely aren't in the dining room anymore."

Dana sneaked along the landing and peered over the banisters. The study door was closed and the dining room was deserted.

"They're in the study." She told Cathy.

"Very well. I do warn you though, it is very cramped in the library."

The two girls tiptoed downstairs to the library, and Cathy, using the key she had taken from her father's coat, unlocked the door and they slipped inside. Dana was amazed by the bookcases crammed with books and the large desk framing the centre of the room.

"Right, we must be very quiet." Cathy warned, "Check inside the drawers. Father keeps his letters in one drawer, documents in the other, his calendar in the top drawer with his diary etc and the blank paper is hidden underneath here." She patted the surface of the desk.

After a few minutes of turning out drawers, the two girls gave up. Then Cathy had a brainwave. She had noticed before that on the side of the portrait over the mantel, the frame was edged with two hinge-like additions. Carefully she climbed onto a chair and tapped the portrait lightly. It opened and she pulled out a box. She handed it to Dana excitedly, and after making sure that everything had been left as they had found it, the two girls raced back upstairs to Cathy's room where they opened the box, and placed a chair in front of the door so that no one could get in.

HOPE YOU ENJOYED IT! DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW!


	2. The Awful Truth

Cathy gasped when she saw the contents. A large brown envelope headed: WADSWORTH: PLEASE OPEN AFTER DINNER, a tape reel, some photographs, some letters and some black gloves.

"What is all this?" Dana asked.

"I don't know. I don't think we should be looking at it, though. Father obviously wanted to keep it private."

"Secret, you mean." Scoffed Dana, opening the envelope and perusing the contents. "Look at this!"

She passed the paper to Cathy who quickly scanned it.

"LIST OF VICTIMS."

"Yeah? And?"

"Oh my goodness! Dana! Your mother's on here. And your father! And my mother…"

"What the…what is that for?"

"It looks like some kind of blackmail scheme. You see. Here you have the victims' names, the information on them, and the informants." She explained to Dana.

"What was my Mommy being blackmailed for?"

Cathy looked at the paper again, and then at Dana. If Dana knew the truth, she would hate her mother forever.

"Nothing much. Business, that's all."

"Oh, that's ok then. What about _your _Mommy?"

Cathy read the caption and took a deep breath.

"My mother supposedly killed her husband." She admitted sourly.

"God, that's awful."

"He was a lunatic though." Cathy added.

"Obviously. What about my Daddy?"

"He had an affair with a patient and lost his medical license."

"My Daddy would never do that. It's a lie!"

"Yes, it's all lies." Agreed Cathy.

"Why is your Daddy not on there? You don't suppose…he wasn't doing the blackmail…was he?"

"Of course not!" Retorted Cathy, hotly, "but…my Father. He worked for Mr Boddy. Maybe Mr Boddy was the one doing the blackmail."

"I'd like to meet him and tell him exactly what I think of him!" Snapped Dana, flailing her fists. "Anyway, why would your Daddy lock this tape reel away?"

"I don't know. But I do have a tape recorder. Shall we listen to it?"

"Ok, sure. Who knows, it might be some brilliant party piece."

But the girls soon found out it was anything but that. It was a lot of people talking. Cathy recognised her father's voice instantly. It was so distinctively English. Dana recognised her mother's voice as well.

"What does she mean by 'I run a specialised hotel and telephone service which provide gentlemen with the company of a young lady…for a short while?"

Cathy looked at her awkwardly, then smiled falsely.

"It's just business slang."

"Oh, Ok."

A little later there was a sound of a loud gunshot and a scream.

"It's not Wadsworth!" Someone announced, "Its Mr Boddy."

"Oh my God." Exclaimed Dana, "someone shot this Mr Boddy instead of your Daddy."

"But Father never said…"

"Doesn't tell you much, does he?"

Then the tape came to an abrupt end.

"So what was that all about?" Dana asked.

"Weren't you listening?" Cathy reprimanded her.

"Not really. It got kinda boring."

"Our parents were being blackmailed, along with several other people by a Mr Boddy. He threatened to expose them to the police and the papers if they did not agree to kill my father, so one of them tried to kill him instead because they were fed up with having to pay the blackmail."

"Nice." Muttered Dana, "so your Daddy was butler to Mr Boddy, right?"

"Yes. I know, because of that letter, that he invited all of Mr Boddy's victims to his house and Mr Boddy must have been shot."

"Yeah, I get that. What about these other people?" She pointed at the list of informants, "Yvonne 'Yvette' Meredith, Jack 'Harrison', Thompson Cramer, Mary Kravitz, Ellen Ho."

"Mary Kravitz?" Repeated Dana, "Daddy's got a patient file on her."

"How do you know?"

"Cos I went through his old files when I was bored."

"With all the things you have? I'd never be bored."

"Yeah, well, I was. Mary Kravitz was a kind of singer or something. She got badly depressed and started having hallucinations…you don't think that it could have been her that Daddy supposedly had an affair with?"

"It is possible, although I doubt he did have an affair. This Mr Boddy fellow sounds frightful."

"He sure does." Agreed Dana, "making up lies about people."

"I'd better take the tape out and put it back in the envelope. Hang on a moment. What are these doing in here?" Cathy held up a pair of black gloves.

"Search me." Replied Dana.

"And this." She handed Dana a slip of paper.

"It's got drawings on. Look." Dana placed it on the floor and the two girls stared at it, horrified.

"That one looks like a dagger." Insisted Cathy, "and that one…that's the candlestick on the side table on the landing. It's dented, though."

"And this one…a rope. A-and this long stick..."

"What about this then? A gun of some kind."

"And, Daddy has one of these in a tool chest. A wrench." Suggested Dana.

"Why would anyone need all these things?" Questioned Cathy, "nothing good is ever done with daggers or guns…OH MY GOODNESS!" She cried out, "The weapons! The weapons from the tape!"

"No, they can't be! They can't!" Spluttered Dana, "If they are, what the Hell is your Daddy doing with them?"

"Dana, I've got a feeling that that wasn't the only murder that happened on that night. Think about it. Six weapons. Six informants and the blackmailer himself. It all adds up."

"And there were six guests. Which means…no…"

"Yes, one or more of the guests killed someone."

"My Mommy wouldn't do that! Neither would Daddy!"

"Dana, they were a part of this, whatever it was. I'm going to check that candlestick on the landing. If it's dented, I'll know."

Cathy removed the chair from the door and sneaked out onto the landing where she picked up the candlestick. Sure enough, it was dented on the bottom. She carried it into her room and laid it down on the floor.

"Someone used this as a murder weapon, Dana. This means, that murders were committed here and our parents may be hiding some very dark secrets."

Dana's wit was gone. She was white as a sheet and her eyes were wide.

"We have to tell our parents."

"Oh yes, good show. Then my father will wonder where we got our information from…"

"There's just one thing I don't understand." Dana exclaimed, "This letter. It's addressed to a Mr Boddy in England."

"Let me see that."

Cathy looked at the letter and her face drained as white as Dana's.

"My father…he…was the real Mr Boddy."

"Your Daddy was blackmailing all those people, including your Mommy, my Mommy and Daddy?"

"Yes." Admitted Cathy sadly, but inside she was seething.

"Then you have to tell your Mommy." Dana ordered her. "If you don't, they'll never know."

"I know, Dana. After everything…my father is the real Mr Boddy."

"Let's go and tell them what we know."

Dana got up to leave the room but Cathy blocked the door. As much as she was furious with her father for lying to her and her mother all those years, she had a similar sense of pride as her father and regarded it as the height of dishonour to betray her family.

"Dana, _if_ I decide to tell them, you must promise me that you won't get involved. It might be dangerous. You don't understand what my father is like."

"All right then. I promise." The girls shook hands and Dana followed Cathy down to the study.

"Catherine, there you are." Began Wadsworth, "I trust you have recovered from your immature outburst?"

"Yes Father." Cathy replied, clutching at the letter behind her back.

"What are you hiding, Catherine?" Wadsworth persisted noticing his daughter's shifty eyes.

"Nothing, Father." Catherine replied, knowing that her next action would change her life forever.

"You are hiding something from me, Catherine. I demand to know what it is." Catherine looked at her father and at once he began to circle her. "Straighten up, Catherine. Don't slouch. Remember what I have taught you."

The Plums looked rather embarrassed. Cathy took a deep breath and brought the paper out slowly

"What is that, Catherine?" Asked Wadsworth coldly.

"Father." She began, "you have lied to me. You have lied to all of us."

Wadsworth gave a dry laugh.

"How ridiculous, Catherine. You do allow your imagination to run away with you."

Cathy walked forward and faced her father directly as he attempted to walk away.

"Well, Catherine?"

"I know what you did fourteen years ago in this very place."

Wadsworth stared at her coldly.

"Cathy, what do you mean, dear?" Asked her mother.

"Father is not who he says he is." She answered. "This letter proves it." She held up the letter and Wadsworth snatched it out of her hand.

"Take no notice of her, Charlotte. She has obviously been exposed to far too much television and comic strips."

"Let me see the letter, Wadsworth." Commanded Charlotte, quietly.

"Really, Charlotte. There is no need to."

"Cathy would not lie."

"Honestly, Charlotte, I think I know our daughter better than you do. She is rather fanciful."

"You would say that, wouldn't you, Mr Boddy." Dana interrupted crossly. Cathy turned around and glared at her worriedly.

Wadsworth pulled a disgusted face.

"Catherine, I suggest you return to your room and…"

"Wait a minute!" Exclaimed Joanna Scarlet, "Mr Boddy?"

"No, Miss Scarlet. I told you, my daughter is very confused." He took hold of Catherine's arm and pulled her out of the room, slamming the door.

"Father! Let me go! I know the truth! I know all about you! How could you lie like that? Why would you do that to us?"

"You wouldn't understand. You're just a child." Wadsworth snapped, dragging his daughter toward the cellar.

"No, Father! I won't let you do this! Don't put me in the cellar! Please!"

But Wadsworth ignored her as he dragged her into the cellar and down the steps, sitting her on an old trunk.

"Catherine, I have tried to be patient with you." He hissed.

"So have I. I want a proper father. Not one who is more interested in his work than spending time with Mother and I. I want a father like Dana's."

"Oh you do, do you?" Snapped Wadsworth, "and what if I was to tell you that his reputation isn't as crystal clear as it seems?"

"I wouldn't care. He loves his daughter, it's obvious. But you, you don't love me. You just want me to end up like you, twisted, bitter, alone."

"Do you honestly think I wanted to spend half my life looking after a brat like you, Catherine?"

"I knew it! I knew you didn't love me! You wouldn't care if I ran away tonight, would you? Well, I don't care. I have information which will get me some money, and then…"

"Oh, joining the family business, now, Catherine? Using information to make money?"

Cathy stared at him.

"So it's all true. The weapons, the murders. Everything."

Wadsworth nodded.

"Yes, it's all true."

"So you are Mr Boddy."

"Yes. I used my employer's name to see if anyone would attempt to assassinate me. The guests believed that my employer was Mr Boddy, and of course, one of them killed him and the informants. Obviously I didn't reveal who I was after letting them all commit murder, and they all got put away for a couple of years whilst your mother and I got married and then landed ourselves with you."

"You disgust me, Father. After blackmailing all those people…have you no shame?"

"Not really, Catherine. After all, it pays well. Now. You will go upstairs and bring the box down to me, and I will see to it that it is destroyed. You will then go into the study and explain to our guests that you have made a mistake. It was all some silly game that you and that spoilt brat Dana had cooked up together…"

Cathy frowned.

"I can't do that, Father."

"Why not, Catherine? You do as I tell you."

"No, this is far more serious than some foolish game. You committed murder and you let the other guests take the blame."

"Murder? What do you mean, murder?"

"Well, 'Mr Boddy' your employer died. Didn't he?"

"Yes, but I didn't kill him, Catherine."

"So why do you have all those papers, black gloves and drawings of weapons in the box, then?"

Wadsworth looked uncomfortable.

"The black gloves are still in there? Goodness. I shall have to remove them."

"What did you do, Father?" Cathy spat.

"The black gloves…the murderer used them. I locked all the evidence away shortly after the police left. They didn't suspect me; after all, a butler simply 'keeps the kitchen tidy'."

"But you knew what would happen on that night didn't you?"

"Of course I did. I gathered them together because they were all implicated in my blackmail. None of them deduced that the other people, such as the cook, the maid and the three visitors were involved. It was very easy."

"And the weapons?"

"I asked my employer to hand them out. He had some idea of what might happen, but I promised to pay him a rather large sum if he agreed to help me. So he did."

"Mr and Mrs Plum have no idea that you are really Mr Boddy. If they found out…"

"I'd know who told them. And that person would pay the price." He added darkly.

"I could expose you to the police, Father. Prove that you aren't the oh-so-perfect English butler."

"You wouldn't do that to your father, would you now, Catherine?"

"Yes, I would actually. Because my father is a liar, a cheat and possibly a murderer."

Wadsworth raised his hand to hit Cathy, but she dodged his blow and raced back up the stairs to the study, slamming the door behind her.

"Mother! Mr and Mrs Plum! You have to leave! Father IS Mr Boddy. It was all a set up!"

"Cathy, calm down, dear. What was a set up?"

"The dinner party fourteen years ago, where you met Father. He switched identities with his employer and promised him some money if he helped him. He might have killed all of you if it wasn't for the informants. He knew that one or more of the guests at the party would kill the informant who snitched on them."

"Cathy, I hope you are telling the truth."

"I am, Mother. Father just admitted to me that he is the real Mr Boddy. He's been living a lie for fourteen years."

"Oh my God!" Cried Joanna Scarlet, worriedly, "Philip, take Dana and Cathy outside. We'll face Mr Boddy ourselves."

"No, Joanna. I won't leave you!"

"Just do as I say, Philip! Take the girls outside and lock them in our car."

Philip ushered them to the door but when he attempted to open it he found it was locked.

"Oh God…"

"How strange." Began Wadsworth's voice from behind, "this is very familiar."

Philip Plum turned to face Wadsworth who was walking across the floor toward the study. He pushed the girls behind him.

"Let the children go." He instructed Wadsworth firmly, "this is between the former guests, not their children."

"Well that isn't strictly true now that my daughter has got herself involved…"

"Wadsworth, Boddy, whatever your name is, just let the kids go."

"I'm afraid not, Professor. Please return to the study."

The professor swivelled around and attempted to pull at the lock but it was too stiff.

"There's no way out." Wadsworth told them pompously, "all the windows have bars, all the doors are locked."

"I thought they might be." Whispered Cathy.

The professor saw the hatred in Wadsworth's eyes and led his own daughter into the study expecting Cathy to follow, but she did not.

"Catherine, go into the study."

"No."

"Catherine, go into the study."

"No."

"I won't ask you again. Go into the study."

"No."

Wadsworth sauntered up to his daughter who made a bolt for the stairs, but she was not quick enough. Wadsworth caught her and forced her arms back, practically pushing her into the study, and sitting her on the sofa before closing the door behind him.

"How familiar this is." He muttered. "Scarlet, come and sit here with your daughter. Charlotte, sit here." He instructed them, pointing at the vacant seats.

"Now, it seems that my daughter has rather too much to say. Since I am not expecting the police to arrive, I might explain…"

"That you took every last penny from us and watched as we killed your informants?"

"Of course, Miss Scarlet. Our seventh dinner guest did not make her appearance on that night, but I soon caught up with her."


	3. Wadsworth Goes Too Far

"But I thought 'Mr Boddy' was the seventh dinner guest?" Questioned Miss Scarlet, hugging her daughter close.

"No, there was another, a rather vulnerable young girl."

"You blackmailed her too?"

"Yes, my dear Miss Scarlet."

"So this house…it belonged to you, right? You knew about the secret passages and everything?"

"Of course. It was my employer's home. I worked here many years before, so I knew everything about the house. There are actually two switches to control the electricity, one in the master bedroom on the second floor and obviously the one you all used…the cellar."

"That's how you managed to kill the singing telegram girl."

"Mary Kravitz?" Questioned Dana.

"How do you know her name, sweetheart?" Asked the Professor, curiously.

"Oh, you obviously haven't told your daughter about your involvement with Mary Kravitz?" Wadsworth smiled.

"Daddy, what does he mean?" Dana asked.

"Let me explain, my dear…your father was once a reputable medical professional. He then had a love affair with one of his patients, namely Miss Mary Kravitz, and lost his license."

"That's a lie!" Cried Dana, "You're a liar! I hate you, Mr Boddy!"

"Dana, calm down." Ordered the Professor, knowing what could happen.

"And your mother also has a dark secret, Carolyn."

"Wadsworth, I'm warning you. You tell my daughter anything and I…" Joanna Scarlet snapped, standing up.

"Will do what, Miss Scarlet? Throttle me with a rope just as you did to Yvette?"

"Who is Yvette?" Asked Dana.

"That doesn't matter, sweetie."

"Oh, but it does. Does your daughter know about your former profession, Miss Scarlet?"

"Wadsworth, that is enough!" Charlotte shrieked.

"Not yet it isn't. Dana, your mother was what is commonly known as a…"

Dana rushed at him and punched him repeatedly in the stomach.

"You won't say anything about my mother!"

"Won't I? Your mother used to run a brothel. Do you know what that is, girl?"

"Yes.." Stammered Dana, "but she's far too classy for that. You are a horrible liar!"

"Professor, remove your daughter at once!" Wadsworth ordered furiously. Philip raced to pull his daughter away and Wadsworth simply tidied his coat and pulled his tailcoat closer together.

"There aren't any weapons this time, Wadsworth. You've struck out." Joanna Scarlet laughed dryly.

"Not so fast, Miss Scarlet, I do have a secret or two."

Now Miss Scarlet decided to face Mr Boddy herself. She bravely walked straight up to Wadsworth and stood face to face with him.

"Oh yeah? If you wanted to kill us all so much, why didn't you?"

"I suppose it was because I thought my informants might have the sense to. Have someone else do my dirty work for a change, instead of waiting upon everyone as usual."

"And now you want your daughter to follow in your footsteps."

"Well, why not? Unfortunately after you all ran out of money, my funds dissolved as well. It was dangerous to keep you alive. Now I can actually retrieve what was lost. Remember this, Scarlet?"

Wadsworth pulled out a gun from his pocket.

"The gun? From the party? You have to be kidding?"

"No, I don't joke, Miss Scarlet. This is the very same gun used to shoot my employer and the singing telegram."

"Oh my God." Exclaimed Dana, horrified, "Mommy! Get away from him!"

"Don't worry, Dana, Mommy has this under control."

"Oh you do, do you?" Wadsworth pulled the trigger as Cathy ran forward and shoved her out the way. Cathy got hit by the bullet straight in the stomach.

"WADSWORTH!" Yelled Charlotte, and Cathy sank to the floor. Wadsworth dropped the gun, horrified at the thought he had shot his daughter, even if he did dislike her.

"Mommy, help Cathy!" Dana called, and the four people rushed to Cathy.

"It's going to be all right, sweetheart." Joanna crooned, taking Cathy's hand in hers, "Charlotte, help me lift her."

"No!" Wadsworth interjected, "leave her where she is. I'll call for an ambulance."

"You stupid, stupid man!" Screamed Charlotte, "Are you satisfied now, Wadsworth?"

Wadsworth stared at his daughter's body as he dialled 911.

"Hurry!" Called Joanna, "Philip, what can we do?"

"There's not much until the ambulance comes. We just have to hope and pray they'll get here quick enough."

"Oh God." Sighed Wadsworth, "what have I done?" he collapsed into the armchair once occupied by his employer.

"You nearly killed our daughter in the process of trying to shoot Miss Scarlet!" Snapped Charlotte furiously, "and all for the sake of blackmail."

"I know. I'm sorry, I'd never hurt Catherine."

Cathy began to lose consciousness and Joanna Scarlet felt her hand grow limp.

"No, Cathy!" She cried, and Wadsworth rushed to her.

"My daughter." He murmured.

Cathy gave a little cough.

"Father…I didn't mean what I said…"

"I only want the best for you, Catherine. Since we haven't been able to provide much for you."

"I know…Daddy."

Her head rolled over, and Philip Plum began to pump her chest.

"No, don't leave us, Cathy!" Squealed Dana, "don't leave!"

The doorbell clanged and Wadsworth raced to it, throwing the door open and allowing the ambulance members to come running in.

"In there." He instructed, "On the floor."

The ambulance team placed her onto a stretcher and carried her out to the ambulance. Wadsworth made to follow but Charlotte shut the door.

"No, Wadsworth. You had your chance. Let her be."

The Plums remained behind with Wadsworth and watched from the porch as the ambulance drove away.

"I want a straight answer, Professor. What are my daughter's chances?"

"To be honest, Wadsworth, I don't know. Some survive, some don't. It depends where the bullet hit her. If it was too close to her artery, it's not so good…"

"But if it wasn't…"

"Then she'll recover with rest."

Wadsworth sank to his knees and clasped his hands in prayer.

"Please, please don't let her…" He trailed off, sobbing.

The rain lashed down around him and soaked him to the skin, but he didn't care. All he wanted was to turn back the clock and prevent himself from doing what he had just done, but he couldn't.

"Wadsworth, come inside. It's cold out there. You'll get sick." Warned Joanna Scarlet.

"I'm fine. Just leave me here."

The Plums went inside and left the door open so that Wadsworth could get in if he wanted to. The professor picked up the gun in the study and marched outside, throwing it as far as he could away from the house.

"The last bullet." He heard Wadsworth murmur, "the last bullet."

"Wadsworth, come in, it won't do you any good sitting out here by yourself."

"After what I've done, I deserve to be struck down right now. How could I have done that to my own daughter?"

"Wadsworth, Boddy, whoever you are, I've seen it happen loads of times. You think you need to complete something when really you can just leave it, and when you do complete it there's always a tragic consequence." Explained the professor.

"All my life, I've wanted perfection, and now I see…I already have perfection, I have a loyal wife, an intelligent daughter, and a home. What else could a man want?"

"What did you want to be, Wadsworth?"

"I wanted to be happy. I wanted to know what it was to be happy, and I didn't care who I hurt or how I achieved it."

Professor Plum sat next to him on the steps.

"So you decided to blackmail us all?"

"Yes. I didn't feel guilty. I believed that the money I made would make me happy, but it didn't. But somehow, I just couldn't stop. I just had to continue. I couldn't stop myself. But I knew it wouldn't last and I would be wanted dead by my victims, so I invited you all and persuaded my employer to join me. I never had a wife, but I did love someone who committed suicide."

"So you told us that story…"

"Yes. I loved Beatrice, but I knew that once she knew what was going on she would leave me, so I had my employer blackmail her, too. All for the love of money."

"Is there anything else, Wadsworth?"

"No, that's it. I hated being Mr Boddy. It was an alias I had used to get the job with my old employer, something Americanised, since no one seemed to give me the time of day once they knew I was English. No one would hire a mere butler of twenty called Thomas James Wadsworth. Of course, my old employer saw through my particularly weak American accent and surprisingly offered me a job as his butler. He was a crooked businessman. Suave and sophisticated, a lady-killer. Yvette was one of his mistresses and she seemed to be very alert when it came to gossip so I employed her as an informant. She gave me some names of other people such as Mrs Ho and the Motorist who she was once engaged to who she knew would be willing to get information for a small fee."

"So then what happened?"

"Well, my employer ran a small time entertainment business, looking for new talent, and Mary Kravitz auditioned for him. He told her that she wouldn't last five minutes in show business and told her to get some 'spunk' and come back when she had more confidence. As you know, Professor, his rejection drove her to insanity. Yvette, who knew her vaguely, offered her some money and she accepted, sealing her contract with me to take revenge on him and everyone else who'd put her down."

"She was suffering from delusions of grandeur, Wadsworth, she was very vulnerable."

"But she was also very alert and collected information which she then fed through Yvette to me."

"Poor Mary." Sighed the Professor, "she had a great talent. She could have been a great star."

"I know, Professor. I regret reacting so irrationally."

"So you did kill her?"

"Yes. I shot her. It would have been dangerous to keep her alive. I was so foolish then."

"I hope your daughter recovers, Wadsworth. As much as I hate what you did to Mary, I think your child's life is more important."

Wadsworth ran a hand through his once pure dark chestnut hair, now streaked with a slight grey, and hung his head.

"Let's go inside, Wadsworth."

Wadsworth stood up, sniffed, tidied his coat and followed the Professor into the study. When Joanna and Dana saw him, they cowered away.

"It's ok, honey. Wadsworth and I have had a talk. Everything's settled."

"Settled? After what he did to poor Cathy?" Snarled Dana crossly.

"Now, now, Dana…" Professor Plum tried to explain, but his daughter, who had inherited her mother's headstrong manner, ignored him.

"Why did you do that to Cathy?" She demanded.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt her…I just…" He fell onto the sofa and sobbed into his hands.

"Joanna, it's ok." Joanna Scarlet and Dana hurried to the Professor and he held them close.

"He is a very disturbed man." Philip told his wife, "a lot went on, and it seems, that we didn't know about."

"Like?"

"Well, Wadsworth became obsessed with money and perfection."

"That is his real name, then?"

"Yes. Mr Boddy was an alias he'd used to get a job with his employer who _we_ knew as Mr Boddy."

"Poor guy." Sighed Miss Scarlet, "what are the odds with the daughter, then?"

"As I told Wadsworth, I really don't know."

Suddenly the telephone rang. Wadsworth rushed to it.

"Yes? Hello?" He asked, in his fine upper class accent, "Yes…yes…oh, that is marvellous news. Thank God. Yes, wonderful. Goodnight to you too, sir." And he replaced the receiver.

"That was the hospital. Catherine will make a full recovery."

"Thank God." Whispered Joanna and Dana.

Wadsworth went to the table Mr Green had once broken and poured some drinks before handing them around and lifting his own glass of tonic water aloft.

"To Catherine."

"To Catherine." The Plums repeated.

"Oh, by the way, since we are not on blackmail terms anymore, I think it is safe to reveal our true identities. Wouldn't you agree?"

"Of course. Well, I am Joanna Leiber, now Johnson."

"And I am Philip Johnson."

"Well, as you know, Professor, I am Thomas James Wadsworth. I was born and educated in England."

"So do we keep referring to you as Wadsworth, or Thomas?"

"Either, really? I don't mind."

"Well, are you still Mr Boddy, mister?" Asked Dana curiously.

"No, I am not. So you may call me what you like."

"All right then. I'm going to call you Mr Wadsworth, if that's okay?"

"Certainly."

"So what will you do with all the stuff Cathy and I found?"

"Destroy it. Apart from the gloves. They are genuine leather and were rather expensive. Still, I suppose, they were used to murder people, so perhaps it's best if they were destroyed too."

"I agree." Dana announced.

"Well, since I have your approval, I shall do as you requested."

"Er…Mr Wadsworth, Cathy also mentioned that…she didn't want to be a…er…housekeeper thing."

"Oh? What did she say, Miss Johnson?"

"Well…er…she said that she wants to be a teacher."

"A teacher? Hmm. She does have a good brain, I will grant her that. Perhaps I could sort something out. Although she can't write, she can certainly read."

"Cathy can't write?" Repeated Miss Scarlet.

"No, I didn't really see the point of teaching her. After all, it isn't a requirement for being a housemaid."

"No, but she won't get far if she can't write." Warned the Professor, "It's almost too late for her brain to accept the ability."

"Oh, in that case, as soon as she is back to full health, I shall send for a tutor."

"I think you should." Agreed the Professor.

"I have an idea!" Exclaimed Dana excitedly, "why don't we have a party for Cathy when she comes out of hospital? It would be such a surprise. You could invite all your friends and neighbours and have a lot of fun!"

Wadsworth smiled weakly.

"Ah, well…Miss Johnson…you see…we don't really have the money to do something like that. It would be jolly good, I know, but…"

"Nonsense, Wadsworth." Interjected Miss Scarlet, "we can supply some stuff. Invite everyone back, it would be like a reunion for us all, accept this time, there'll be nothing dark about the evening, just everyone having a good time. I know Matthew and Robert would love to come. You know, Robert said although you annoyed him with that 'yes' 'no' conversation you had in the library after he suggested that we split up and search the house, he loved your accent and your so typically English manner, and Matthew just thought that the house was incredible, if a little spooky."

"In that case, we must invite them all. Do you have their addresses, Miss Scarlet?"

"Yes, Wadsworth, I do."

"Excellent. Well," He clapped his hands, "we have a party to organise."


	4. Reunion and a Murder

And so it was, the following Friday Cathy returned home, looking slightly peaky but still alive and well after her traumatic experience. She did not blame her father for what he had done, after all, she had been foolish enough to jump in front of the nozzle, but anyway, she was happy to be alive and as she stepped through the door into the dark hall she smiled. It was good to be home.

"SURPRISE!" Cried Dana, switching the lights on and revealing a large banner attached to the landing banisters reading: WELCOME HOME and a huge buffet was laid out upon the big dining room table. Charlotte assisted her to the dining room and the other guests appeared out of nowhere. The guests who she'd heard of but never met came over to her and shook her hand, making her feel very welcome.

"So you're Wadsworth's daughter, are you?" One of them kept saying, a woman with a rather large peacock feather hat on her head. "I must say dear, you do resemble your father in lots of ways. Your posture, the way you hold your hands behind your back, and that face! Goodness, apart from the nose. You have your mother's nose."

"Thank you. You must be Mrs Peacock…"

"Correct, my dear. Oh, you also have Wadsworth's accent as well. Your daughter does you proud, Wadsworth!" She called to him.

"I know madam." He replied.

"Robert! Come and meet the guest of honour!" Mrs Peacock yelled to a short tubby man wearing a dark green blazer and yellow tie.

"Well, hello there. You're Wadsworth's daughter, right?"

"Yes sir-Colonel." She struck her hand to a salute.

"There's no need for that, Miss, but I see Wadsworth has taught you some good manners."

"Isn't she just the image of her father though?" Questioned Mrs Peacock, with a slight sigh.

"Yes, she is. Is he still butlering, Miss?"

"Oh, please, Colonel, call me Cathy. Yes, my father is still 'butlering' in a manner of speaking, although I believe the correct term is actually 'buttling'."

"Well, darn me. You learn something new everyday. It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Wadsworth."

He shook her hand and Cathy walked away, feeling lost in the maze of people. As she passed by the buffet table she collided with a bespectacled man wearing a grey jacket, red tie and matching grey trousers.

"There's no need for introduction, Miss Wadsworth. I know who you are." He held out his hand and she shook it.

"You must be Mr Green." The dog came running in and attempted to sit on the dining room chair. "Sit!"

Mr Green sat down.

"No, not you, sir." Cathy told him, struggling to suppress a laugh.

"Yes. It's very easy to recognise you, Miss Wadsworth. You are so much like your father. But I bet everyone says that."

"Yes, they do. I don't mind."

"Does your father ever speak about that dinner party?"

"Oh, well. He prefers not to. After all, it was rather a dark time. That Mr Boddy was horrible."

"Agreed, Miss Wadsworth."

"Oh, please, Mr Green, call me Cathy. My father likes to call me Catherine, which is my real name, but I prefer Cathy."

"All right then, Cathy. You can call me Mr Green, or Matthew."

"Let's dispense with the formality of titles." Suggested Cathy, "I'm so glad I'm getting to meet you all at last."

"I'm sorry to hear about what happened to you, Cathy. I'm sure your father didn't mean to do that."

"No, he didn't. I was playing a game and it got rather out of hand."

"It's nice to hear someone speak with that great English accent. You have the perfect accent for a young lady, Cathy."

"Catherine! Could you come here please? Have you met Mrs Peacock and the Colonel?" Wadsworth called over the hubbub of guests.

"I'm sorry, Mr Green, I have to go. It's been nice talking to you."

"You too, Miss Cathy."

Cathy rushed to her father.

"Yes, we have met, thank you father."

"I understand you're still in buttling, Wadsworth?" Queried the Colonel. Wadsworth looked puzzled for a moment.

"Father, he means your job." Hissed Cathy.

"Oh yes, still in buttling." Replied Wadsworth, snapping his hands together behind his back. "Doubt if I'll ever change profession now, Colonel."

"You know, I think of your job as a military operation. Organisation is the key, right?"

"Yes, Colonel. Most definitely."

"You have strict orders to follow in a regimented fashion?"

Wadsworth nodded.

"So it is like a military operation?"

"I suppose it is, really. So, Colonel, what do you think of my daughter?"

"Very polite, sensible and responsible. Men will be falling over themselves for her."

"Oh, Colonel, I think it's a little early to say that."

"You might say that now, Wadsworth. Give it a year at the most. Scarlet's daughter's just like her as well."

"Indeed she is. Very headstrong." Agreed Mrs Peacock, "seems a little bit spoilt, if you ask me. Mind you, saying that, Miss Scarlet did like to show off at the party."

"I haven't had the pleasure of meeting Miss Scarlet's daughter yet, I just saw her and immediately recognised the resemblance. She'll be a heartbreaker. What's her name, Mrs Peacock?"

"Dana, I believe." Replied Mrs Peacock, "Wadsworth, your daughter is called Cathy?"

"Catherine. We make allowances for the diminutive. Only I address her as Catherine. I have done since she was born and I don't intend to change now."

"I think it's a beautiful English name, just perfect for you, Wadsworth. It's so strange, she has your posture, your hand gestures, everything. The only thing that resembles Mrs White is the little nose. Apart from that, she is the image of you."

"Thank you, Mrs Peacock. I must admit, she hasn't had the best education, but that will change in the near future."

"Not one for the books, then, Wadsworth?"

"On the contrary, Mrs Peacock, Catherine is very well read. I can thank God that she has my memory, and can absorb knowledge rather well…"

"But?"

"She can't write."

"Can't write? But she can read?"

"Oh yes."

"Why can't she write? Is it difficult for her?"

"No, she could probably write rather well, but…you see…I was foolish enough to train her to be the perfect hostess and housemaid, believing that she would want to follow in my footsteps, so I did not teach her."

"So what kind of career does she want to aspire to, Wadsworth?"

"Catherine would like to become a teacher."

"A teacher? That's different. Then again, Wadsworth, if she has a memory like yours I don't doubt she'll be very successful."

"Why, thank you, Mrs Peacock. I'm glad you approve."

"But you said, Wadsworth, you don't have the money to educate her."

"Well, that is true, I'm afraid."

Mrs Peacock reached into her bag and produced a chequebook, scribbling a sum on a slip.

"A certified cheque? Oh, Mrs Peacock, there's no reason for that. I'm just so pleased that she has recovered from what happened."

"Yes, Wadsworth, but that is what comes of foolish tampering with a gun."

"It wasn't entirely her fault, though, Mrs Peacock. I'm afraid I can't accept this. You were almost declared bankrupt after the blackmail, I read in the newspaper."

"Wadsworth, I'm an old woman. I have no family, no one to leave what's left of my finances to, and you deserve it after helping us out with Mr Boddy and I think your daughter needs it more than I do."

Wadsworth took the cheque.

"Well, that's very kind of you, Mrs Peacock. I am extremely grateful to you."

"Not at all, Wadsworth. I can't thank you enough for helping us all out of Mr Boddy's blackmail."

Just as the guests began to adjourn to the ballroom to begin the dancing, two police officers walked in.

"We're lookin' for Thomas James Wadsworth." They announced.

"Who are you?" Asked Cathy worriedly.

"That ain't really any of your business, little girl, so stay out of it."

"He's my father." Cathy explained.

"Oh, is he now? So where is he, Miss Wadsworth?"

"Firstly, I don't understand why you're here, but I demand to know the purpose of this visit."

"I'm afraid that's classified, Miss Wadsworth, but if you can get your father to come here and speak to us, we'd be very grateful."

"I know what will happen if I do that. You aren't going to take my father away."

"Catherine? Where are you?" Cathy heard her father call, and he appeared in the archway of the dining room. "There you are…"

"Father, these men are from the police department." Cathy explained.

"FBI actually." Retorted the first police officer. "You're Thomas James Wadsworth of Levington, England."

"Yes, that would be me…" Agreed Wadsworth.

A smartly dressed woman in a fine grey dress and chestnut coloured hair pulled back into a tight bun walked into the hall.

"Mary Wadsworth." Murmured Wadsworth crossly.

"Dear brother, how wonderful it is to see you again." She exclaimed sleekly, walking to Cathy. "This must be your daughter. Doesn't she look like Mother?"

"Mary, I warned you never to come here."

"And why would you do that, darling brother?"

"You know why."

"Ah, I see. The police and the FBI have been searching for you for years, brother dear." She turned to Cathy, "I don't suppose your father has ever mentioned his delightful little sister, has he?"

"No." She replied.

"There's no need to look so prim, young lady. I suppose my brother taught you that did he?"

"So…you're my aunt."

"Correction," Interrupted Wadsworth, "she was once your aunt before she betrayed the family. Now, Catherine, go back into the dining room. I shall deal with this." Catherine left.

"That's no way to talk to your sister, Thomas."

"It is when it seems that my sister has called the police to my house."

"Oh, yes, Thomas. About that…I'm afraid there's nothing I can do. You ran off leaving poor Mama in a terrible state: Oh, where has he gone? Someone must find him before he does something foolish! But you didn't care about that, did you Thomas? Leaving your own mother and sister behind whilst you went off travelling."

"I left because I needed a job!" retorted Wadsworth, "now, I want the truth, Mary. What are you doing here?"

"Well, do you recognise this?" Mary pulled out an old newspaper and unravelled it."AMERICA WARNED OF BLACKMAIL SCANDAL BY ENGLISH COUNT'."

"How ridiculous, Mary."

"Oh but brother dear, this is YOU!"

"That was many years ago, Mary, I am a different man now."

"Oh, yes of course you are. Became a butler and married some widow and had a daughter."

"Yes, that is correct, Mary. I suggest you leave before I remove you myself."

"No, Thomas, you won't."

"Oh?" Wadsworth drawled.

"I want to see your daughter."

"You have already seen her, and yes, the resemblance between her and Mother is striking, however do not say a word about Beatrice."

"Why not, Thomas? Afraid of the truth? Catherine is almost a copy of Beatrice."

"No, she is not, Mary. You would say that because you hated her."

"I? I hate Beatrice Ponsonby? Better her than that silly foolish girl you brought home one day. Even if she was a Lord's daughter."

"If you mean Cordelia Hartley, Mary, she is dead."

"Oh how strange. Two dead at your hands, and, from what I hear, your latest wife is something of a serial murderer as well. Oh, how nice."

"Mary, either explain your purpose of coming here, or leave."

"Oh, darling sweet brother, I have come with these two charming gentlemen to set right what I should have done twenty two years ago."

"You had your chance, Mary. Leave this house, at once, and don't return."

"Fine, have it your way, brother dear, but I warn you. One day I will have my revenge for what you did to our family."

Wadsworth pointed at the door.

"Leave!" He ordered firmly, and Mary, with a sour expression, left with the two officers.

"What's that all about, Wadsworth?" Asked Charlotte curiously.

"Nothing, just a slightly disturbed relative of mine." He clapped his hands. "Shall we have a sing-song around the piano?"

"Oh yes, Father. I would like that very much." Agreed Cathy.

"Very well then. Everyone to the ballroom please."

The guests followed Wadsworth, Charlotte and Cathy to the ballroom where they sat around the piano and Cathy sang for them. She had a pretty, light voice, and everyone clapped as she finished her song 'Cherry Ripe' which her Father had taught her. Suddenly there came a loud scream from the hall and everyone raced out to find Wadsworth on the floor with a large bread knife in his back.

"FATHER!" Cried Kate, rushing to his body.


	5. Tricks, Truth and Tarts

"Stay back!" Ordered Professor Plum, racing to the body and shoving Cathy away.

"My Father has been murdered and you expect me to stand here and do nothing? I will not leave this hall until I know who did this."

"Cathy, let the Professor do his job, dear." Agreed Charlotte, attempting to take her daughter's arm and lead her away, but Cathy was insistent.

"I am staying here. My Father shall not be left to suffer this injustice alone. I shall not call the Police until I am certain of the circumstances."

"That would be a good idea, Miss Wadsworth." Agreed the guests.

"Yes, I quite agree." Mary Wadsworth, the woman who had been banished from the house by Wadsworth, walked into the hall from the study.

"How did you get in?" Demanded Cathy.

"Your mother let me in." Cathy turned to her mother.

"Yes, I invited Wadsworth's sister in. Where's the harm in that?"

"Because she murdered Father." Snapped Cathy crossly.

"Now, now, my dear girl. You have no proof and perhaps a rather extraordinary imagination."

"But you hated my Father. You tried to get him put away in prison."

"Now now now, Miss Wadsworth, there's no reason to be so horrible to your Aunt." Mary Wadsworth retorted in her sleek voice.

"It's not Miss Wadsworth to you, madam. I am Catherine."

"Catherine. Yes, yes, I thought my brother might try to fob you off with a name like that. Always was a one for tradition was Thomas. We hated each other as children."

"So much so that you wanted to kill your own brother?" Cathy persisted.

"No, of course not. We had different tastes, different hobbies. Thomas knew what he wanted to do from an early age, and our Father refused to let him become a butler. He said that no son of his was going to train in a working class profession."

"Why did you come here, madam? You wanted to get Father put away of course, but what else?"

"He abandoned his family in their hour of need. My mother always loved Thomas better than me."

"I have heard enough. If you must be known as Aunt Mary, I suppose I shall have to accept it. Please don't expect to be treated with courtesy in this house. My judgement of you, for now, is reserved."

"My my, don't you sound like your Father. He must have taught you everything."

"Yes he did. I'm not ashamed of who I am, Aunt Mary."

"Of course you're not. Thomas never was. Oh how terrible for you to witness this." She rested a hand on Cathy's shoulder in support, but Cathy shook it away. She did not trust Mary Wadsworth at all.

Charlotte on the other hand led Mary through to the ballroom where the guests were discussing Wadsworth's death.

"Another murder." Whispered Mrs Peacock. "I wonder what the motive was this time?"

"Well, if you ask me, that Mary Wadsworth's letting on less than she knows. You can see the kid doesn't trust her." Agreed the Colonel.

Dana stayed with her friend in the hall as Cathy crouched down beside her father's body. She didn't dare roll him over for fear of lodging the knife in his back permanently.

She took hold of his hand, squeezing it tight, and she felt something crackle beneath her palm. Opening his hand, she pulled out a crumpled piece of paper.

WADSWORTH

GIVE YOURSELF UP NOW AND NO ONE WILL GET HURT. STAY HIDDEN AND YOU WILL SUFFER OUR…DISPLEASURE…FOR WE HAVEN'T FORGOTTEN, AND WE NEVER WILL. REMEMBER YOUR SECRET WILL STAY SAFE FOR AS LONG AS YOU PROVIDE US WITH THE MONEY. WE EXPECT TO HEAR FROM YOU SHORTLY, OR YOU MUST FACE THE CONSEQUENCES.

"Oh my God?" Cried Dana reading over her friend's shoulder, "what does that mean, Cathy?"

"I don't know, Dana. It's like a summons of some kind. Whoever my Father was involved with…they must have been really dangerous. Perhaps it has something to do with the blackmail."

"Either that or your Daddy's been paying them a little on the side to keep you safe."

"Maybe that's why we live in this wreck of a house."

"Yeah, it would make sense. So are these people English or American?"

"It's impossible to tell, Dana. They sound English, but my Father didn't stay in England long."

"It says that his secret will stay safe as long as he provides them with the money…"

"Which means my father was murdered!"

"Great work, Einstein." A sixteen year old girl came out of the study chewing gum.

"And who are you, exactly?" Asked Cathy, curiously.

"Well, I suppose you'd call me Sophia Mustard."

Cathy surveyed her nervously. Sophia was much taller than either Cathy or Dana, and she had curled dark blonde hair which hung loosely about her face just past her shoulders. Her dress was very stylish, a turquoise colour, and she wore long white boots with an orange cardigan.

"What are you staring at, kid?" Sophia demanded crossly.

"Oh, nothing. By the way, I am Catherine Jane Wadsworth, the owner's daughter, and this is Dana Scarlet."

"Keen. My grandfather invited me here. I don't want to be a babysitter though. I came for a chill out. You know."

"No, I'm sorry, I don't know."

"Who is this then? What'cha playin'? Dead soldiers?" She eyed Wadsworth's body suspiciously.

"Dead being the operative word, Miss Mustard." Explained Cathy. "My father has been murdered."

"Oh my God! A murder? That's so Perry Mason."

"It might be, but its true. No one is allowed to leave this house."

"You are being paranoid, Miss Wadsworth."

"No, I am not, Miss Mustard." Sophia ran to the door and attempted to open it but it was locked. Cathy knelt down and took the key to the front door out of her father's pocket. She threw it up and caught it, placing it in her apron pocket. "There is no other way out of this house…"

"Sure…the windows."

"No, the windows are barred. The doors are locked. Until we find out who did this to my father, no one is leaving. Everyone is a suspect. In particular my Aunt Mary Wadsworth."

"Yeah, she seems a bit too concerned." Agreed Dana. "Is there anywhere I can wash my hands? I don't like being near a dead body for too long."

"Precisely. There's a sink in the kitchen." Cathy clapped her hands and called over Mr Green and Dana's father.

"Could you please move Father into the study please?"

"Why?" Asked Sophia Mustard, curiously.

"Well, it's hardly appropriate to keep him here in the hall, Miss Mustard."

"Whatever." Sighed Sophia.

"Is there anyone else such as a cousin or daughter of the original group?"

"Yeah. Mr Green's nephew is here. Will he do?" Sophia asked carelessly.

"Yes, almost definitely."

"He's in the study, I'll just get him."

Sophia walked back into the study and came out dragging a boy of about Cathy's age with her.

"This is Corey Green."

"Pleased to make your acquaintance, Corey." Replied Cathy, holding out her hand. He shook it nervously, his glasses shuddering.

"Yes, pleased to meet you too, Miss."

"Oh, excuse me, I am Catherine. You may call me Cathy."

"Oh, ok." Corey murmured.

Dana, who had returned from the kitchen came running over to the small group.

"Oh, who is this?" She asked, pointing at Corey.

"Oh, of course. Dana, meet Corey Green. Corey, meet Dana Scarlet."

"Dana Scarlet? Miss Scarlet's daughter?" Corey asked.

"Yeah." Agreed Dana.

"I read all about your father's exploits in the Wall Street Journal."

"Oh my God. You read the Wall Street Journal?" Repeated Dana, "but you're like, our age."

"He's obviously very intelligent." Cathy commented. "So is there anyone else I should know about?"

"Mrs Peacock's granddaughter, for instance?" Asked Sophia.

"Oh goodness. Perhaps we should just go into the study and find out who is who." Cathy ushered the group into the study and was greeted by gaping faces.

"There's no reason to ask who you are." A fourteen year old girl wearing a fussy dress and pearls commented. "You got to be Catherine Wadsworth."

"Yes, that would be correct, Miss…"

"Miss Veronica Peacock."

"Oh, so you're Mrs Peacock's granddaughter."

"Yes, that's right. I'm sorry to hear about your Dad's death."

"It was murder." Explained Cathy, "and I'm going to need your help to track down the murderer."

"Sure. Ok. I'm new to this whole detective thing, so please forgive me. I love your house by the way, it's got so much atmosphere, and oh my goodness, you look so sweet in that little maid's outfit. You must be Dana Scarlet, I could recognise that face a mile off. I love your dress, it's beautiful it has to be from NY right? So what's the plan, Miss Wadsworth? How do we track down the murderer?"

"Well, I suggest that you all adjourn to my room where we can discuss this. I need one of you to wait down here and keep an eye on Mary Wadsworth."

"Sure. I'll do that." Dana volunteered.

"I would rather Corey here was our lookout. Dana, I'll need you for support."

"Of course. Ok." Dana agreed and Cathy beckoned her small group to her room.

"Oh my God." Sophia sniffed, "this is your room? How can you live in here?" She swept a finger along the shelf. "ok, it's not dusty. It's just dull and grim."

"Thank you for your observation, Miss Mustard." Cathy snapped, indicating a stool by the dressing table.

As soon as the group had taken their seats, Cathy prepared to speak.

"Now, I must tell you all something about your relatives. Something that you do not know and should know. Your relatives were once victims of a blackmail scheme organised and run by a Mr Boddy. Now, if I am to tell you the truth, you must promise not to repeat it."

"Agreed." The small group put their hands on their hearts.

"Very well. Miss Peacock, your grandmother was blackmailed by Mr Boddy for accepting bribes and she was accused of murdering one Ellen Ho."

"Yes, my grandmother had a cook called Mrs Ho. She cooked the weirdest stuff."

"Hmm. Well, she was invited to a party here back in 1954 and it all got rather out of hand. She was met by the butler, my father Wadsworth and along with the rest of the guests, they were witness to six deaths but no one knows who killed who. I have only recently discovered that Mr Boddy was actually my father under a pseudonym."

"Oh my God!" Cried Veronica Peacock, in an accurate imitation of her grandmother's famous catchphrase.

"Yes, so I am rather ashamed to admit that my father was the reason your relatives suffered such horrible blackmail cases. I think he was murdered because of this."

"Shocking!" Cried Veronica, "my grandma said he was so nice, though. He wouldn't do that?"

"Yes, he would, sadly. It's all true."

"Oh dear. Well, all I can say is…it's in the past now. I won't tell my grandma."

"If she is your gran'ma, how come she said that she didn't have any kids?" Dana pointed out.

"She's my step-grandma."

"God, that's confusing." Dana sighed, "Still, Cathy, are you going to tell the others about what happened?"

"Dana, thank you." Cathy groaned, "all right, I suppose I'll have to. Miss Mustard, your grandfather…"

"Yeah, he was blackmailed by your father cos he had an affair with some little french tart."

"I beg your pardon?" Repeated Cathy.

"Yeah, you heard me. Her name was Yvonne or something."

"Yvette."

"That's her. And it must have been your mum who got them together." Sophia added to Dana.


	6. The Noble Rise Forth

"Yes, and so what?" Cathy could tell that Dana was furious at being addressed so, and decided it was time to move on.

"Now, could someone please get Corey?"

"I will." Offered Dana and haughtily marched from the room, returning seconds later with Corey.

"Oh thank goodness. Corey, I have some news for you, but you must not tell anyone."

"Ok." Corey murmured nervously, "I promise."

"Very well. Your uncle was blackmailed for almost two years by a man called Mr Boddy, who was in fact my father. Your uncle witnessed the murders of several people, and we still do not know who killed who. We know that there were six victims, and the guests, including your father arrived here one night in 1954 and the six victims were all related to the guests in one way or another, so one or more of them must have killed the victims who informed on them."

"Wow, it's just like a book or a movie." Corey exclaimed, "my uncle doesn't speak about it. I haven't heard him mention it before. What was he being blackmailed for?"

Cathy looked uncomfortable. She pulled out the list from under her bed where Dana had put it and handed it to Corey, who read it quickly.

"Oh…ok…" He mumbled, "er…so your dad blackmailed my uncle cos of his…lifestyle, shall we say?"

"Yes, Corey. I am so sorry to have to tell you this, but you must know if we are to track down the murderer."

"OK. I see now. How do we start, Miss?"

Cathy was quite taken aback at being addressed as 'Miss' and blushed.

"Er…well…we…erm…look at the murder weapon."

"If you think I'm touching that knife in your Dad's back, you got another think coming." Snapped Sophia Mustard.

"Very well, then, I shall examine it." Cathy told her, taking a pair of white gloves out of a drawer and pulling them on.

"Of course, there's no one else cos Professor Plum married Miss Scarlet, they had their daughter, and Wadsworth was married to Mrs White." Explained Veronica Peacock.

"Yes. Shall we adjourn to the study to examine the body? Actually, on second thoughts, could you three," She indicated Sophia, Veronica and Dana, "interrogate the suspects? Keep an account of what they have said and that way we shall have some clue as to who might be guilty. Corey, since you appear to be intelligent, you shall come with me and examine my father's body and the evidence."

"Yes, Miss Wadsworth." Agreed Corey.

"Excellent. Then, fall out." Cathy instructed and the group separated in the hall.

Cathy and Corey sneaked into the study and Corey closed the door so that they wouldn't be disturbed as they examined the body. Cathy didn't dare to remove the knife for fingerprints, but she took the letter magnifying glass from the desk and looked at the weapon closely.

"Corey, could you please come and take a look at this? I think it is engraved?"

Corey took the magnifying glass and held it over the side of the knife.

"Yep." He announced, pushing his glasses further up his nose, "it says _Optimus Orior oriri ortus Continuo_."

"What on Earth does that mean? I think it must be Latin, but I'm not familiar with the language."

"That's a bit of luck, Miss Wadsworth, because I am. I study it at my private school."

"Well, come on then, what does it mean?"

"_The Noble Rise Forth_'" Explained Corey confidently.

"The Noble Rise Forth? So it's not a name?"

"No, it sounds like a motto that an old rich family would have hanging in a hall or something."

"Oh, I see. That's a shame. I thought it might tell us something about the murderer."

"Well, it does, Miss Wadsworth. Whoever owned this knife belonged to a wealthy family."

"That could be anyone here, including Mary Wadsworth."

"I guess you're right. What are you holding in your hand, Miss?"

Cathy reluctantly drew out the crumpled piece of paper from her apron and handed it to Corey.

"Jeepers." He exclaimed when he had finished, "he was in deep trouble."

"I know. It means that one of these people could have killed him, Corey."

"Yeah, but who? You have a house full of people. Not all of them knew what you told me, so who did?"

"I don't know. My mother and the Plum family knew, but that was all until I told you and Sophia."

"Well, ok. I suggest we check the silverware in the dining room."

"Good idea, Corey."

So the two people went to the dining room and examined the silverware.

"No, this isn't the same." Explained Corey, "it's just got a crest on this one."

"Hmm." Cathy murmured, "so the murderer must have brought their own weapon with the intention ti kill my father?"

"That's what it seems like, Miss Wadsworth. Are there any other things you might have missed?"

"Yes, of course! The box!" Cathy cried out.

"What box?" Asked Corey.

"My father's box! Into the library, quickly!"

Corey followed Cathy to the library where she found the portrait open and the box was empty.

"Oh no!" She removed the bottom layer, but the box was completely empty apart from two buttons so she took them out.

"Someone has taken the contents of the box, leaving only these two buttons behind." She dropped them into Corey's palm.

"Why would anyone leave two buttons behind, Miss Wadsworth?"

"I don't know. But someone knew about the portrait and the hidden evidence. Where on earth would they have taken it though? The doors and windows were locked."

Her eyes cast upon the fire burning merrily in the grate. She could just make out some charred pieces of paper and singed black gloves.

"Black gloves?" She repeated.

"What?" Asked Corey, curiously.

"The black gloves. My father's black gloves! You don't suppose the murderer used them to kill my father, do you?"

"I don't know."


	7. Poison and Prudery

"It's logical to assume so, isn't it?"

"Yeah…I guess so." Replied Corey.

"Well, I hope the others are having more luck than we are." Hissed Cathy, closing the box.

"Shall we go and find out, Miss Wadsworth?"

"No, if someone has been in here they might have left some evidence behind."

"Like what?" Asked Corey.

"A hair pin or something. Oh, you know…"

"Like this?" Corey picked up a single hair from the table.

"Yes, exactly. Good job, Corey."

"Thanks." He stared at it for a moment, "so what do we do with it?"

"Well, we attach it to a piece of paper and try to find someone that matches with it." Cathy was beginning to have grave doubts on Corey's intelligence.

"Oh, okay, shall I go and check on Dana…I mean Veronica."

"If you wish." Cathy replied, looking sadly at Corey.

"Well, aren't you coming, Miss Wadsworth?" Corey asked.

"Oh, yes, I suppose I must. Let's take the evidence with us."

Cathy led Corey into the ballroom where all the guests were standing. Veronica, Sophia and Dana were no where to be seen.

"Oh goodness. Where do you suppose they are?"

"Looking for your friends, Miss Wadsworth?" Came a familiar voice from behind, and Cathy turned to see Mary Wadsworth leering down on her.

"In a manner of speaking, Aunt Mary."

"Well, I saw that little spoilt brat in the fancy red dress walking toward the conservatory."

Cathy left Corey to investigate in the ballroom whilst she searched the conservatory.

"Dana! There you are! Have you discovered anything?"

"Hmm…kinda. Sophia's taken the booze from your Daddy's special cabinet in the dining room and they're getting…how would you say it...?"

"Sozzled." She paused for a moment. "WHAT?! What did you say?"

"I said that Sophia's taken your Daddy's big bottle of drink and taken it upstairs to a large room she's found."

"Oh wonderful!" Cathy raced out of the conservatory and upstairs to the landing. "Where on Earth could she be?"

Cathy walked along the landing to the front windows of the house and listened carefully for any sound of life. There was none.

She crossed to the guest bedrooms and she found Sophia there, on the floor, coughing and spluttering as though she was having some sort of fit.

"Dear God!" Cathy cried, "are you alright?"

Sophia could barely breathe. Cathy sat her up and slapped her back hard. A ring came flying out of the girl's mouth! Sophia clutched at her throat and massaged her neck. Cathy picked the little object up from the old moth eaten carpet.

"A ring?" Sophia gasped, "how the Hell did that get into the bottle?"

"Oh goodness! It came from the bottle? Please, let me see it."

Sophia weakly passed the large bottle to Cathy, who looked at the label.

"Cognac? You stole my father's cognac from the dining room?"

"What's the problem? This party needs livening up."

"You don't think it hasn't been enough already? One murder, a possible choking attempt, and now I find that you have stolen my father's most expensive drink!"

"Hey, come on…"

"Where is Veronica?" Cathy snapped, losing her patience.

"She went to the bathroom. She didn't feel so good."

"Excellent." Cathy left the guest room and walked back to the bathroom. She knocked politely on the door.

"Veronica? Are you in there?"

There came no reply, so crossing her heart knowing that her father would have scolded her if he'd seen her kicking the door, she gave it a sharp kick and the door willingly opened, creaking slightly as it opened further into the 'bathroom'.

Veronica lay on the floor, her arm above her head.

"Veronica, are you all right?" Cathy asked her, kneeling down next to her.

The unconscious form gave a groan and fidgeted. Cathy clutched her heart which had been thumping madly in relief. At least it wasn't another dead body.

"Whoosittt?" Veronica slurred.

"It's me, it's Cathy."

"I don't feel so good." Veronica admitted weakly.

"No, I'm sure you don't, because Sophia gave you my father's cognac. It's rather strong, you know."

Veronica rolled over and clutched her stomach.

"Did you drop this in the bottle by accident?" Cathy held up the ring.

Veronica shook her head and gave another groan.

"My stomach really hurts."

"Hurts? How can it hurt…you just happened to get a little tipsy on the drink."

"No, honestly," Groaned Veronica, "it feels like someone's stabbing a knife into it."

Cathy winced, recalling the memory of her father's body.

"That couldn't have been from the drink…no…"

"What?" Veronica gasped.

"Did the drink taste unusual to you, Veronica?"

Veronica stared at her for a moment and then leaned forward suddenly and retched.

"Oh! Careful, Veronica, don't get vomit on the rug, please!"

Veronica raised her head and seemed to glare at Cathy whilst looking very peaky.

"Veronica, stay here for a moment, I'm just going to get the bottle. Do try to keep yourself from vomiting on the floor, please."

Cathy raced back to the guest room where she found Sophia holding the bottle hard against her chest.

"Sophia, can I have the bottle, please?" Cathy asked coaxingly.

"No…I want it."

"But Sophia, this is important. It concerns both you and Veronica. I think the drink may have been poisoned."

"Poisoned?" Sophia immediately let go of the bottle and tossed it away. Cathy rushed to pick it up and smelt it. It emitted a faintly stale odour but retained it's original colour and consistency.

"As I thought…poison. Sophia, I want you to make yourself vomit."

"Sorry?" gasped Sophia in disbelief.

"Yes, you heard me correctly. Make yourself vomit. Although do be careful not to stain anything. You must cleanse all the poison from your stomach. If you don't…who knows what might happen to you?"

Sophia stood up, towering over Cathy.

"All right, missy. Cards on the table. You put the poison in the wine, didn't ya?"

"Of course I didn't." retorted Cathy, "and by the way, it is cognac, not wine."

"I don't give…whatever it is…"

"Sophia, I order you. Make yourself vomit. Veronica is lucky, but it seems that we have a very determined murderer on our hands. First the stabbing of my father, now poison in the cognac."

"You think the…the…murderer did this?" Slurred the adamant girl.

"Of course. I won't say anything to your relatives about this. I'm not sure that my father was the main target now. It could have been anyone. But I still have great suspicions of Mary Wadsworth."

"Mary Wadsworth? She's your aunt…" Hissed Sophia, "h…how can you sssuspect your aunt?"

"Because father said she was a horrible, devious cunning creature."

"That comes from the same girl who told me her father was the real Mr Boddy."

"I know." Replied Cathy, earnestly, "you'll just have to trust me."


	8. Passages and Pretence

Meanwhile, enclosed in the secret passageway behind the portrait in the study, the murderer recollected their thoughts.

"Hmm, one down, five to go. No one is going to stop me this time…" A gloved hand slipped into a familiar briefcase and brought out a rope, a dagger, a revolver, a lead pipe, a wrench and of course, a candlestick. If Cathy had managed to check the landing she would have noticed that it was missing. The murderer tied the rope into a noose and tugged it sharply.

"The saddest part will be the goodbye" they whispered, and continued to pull the evidence from the briefcase.

"Wadsworth, your time has come."

Cathy returned to the conservatory with Veronica, who was looking slightly peaky and Sophia who was more than a little disorientated.

"There you are, Cathy! I've been waiting here for ages! You found them ok, then?"

"Apparently." Replied Cathy, crisply, "I have discovered that the cognac is poisoned. Anyone who drank from this bottle is at risk. Whoever poisoned the bottle also dropped this ring inside." She held up the ring, "and Sophia here choked on it."

Dana looked horrified.

"That is just so gross!"

"Hmm. I'm going to examine my father's body again. I have a feeling that there might be more to this than I thought."

And with that, Cathy left, and walked back to the study. As she walked in, she gasped. Her father's body was gone!

She raced back to the conservatory.

"Come quickly! The body's gone!"

"What body? There was no body in the study?" Asked Veronica.

"Yes, my father's body was there. Now it's gone!"

"Oh great," Sighed Dana, "now where the hell can we find it?"

"Well, it can't have come out of the study on its own. Someone must have moved it. Maybe the murderer moved it! Maybe his body held a clue."

"Yeah, to like why his daughter is so paranoid?" Remarked Sophia, "listen, honey, I ain't being funny but don't you think you should leave this to the cops?"

"No, it's my duty." Cathy snapped.

"All right, Cathy. Calm down." Insisted Dana, "Where do you suppose they took your dad's body?"

"I don't know. We'll have to search the house. Will someone please find Corey?"

"If we're gonna do this, I suggest we do it properly." Agreed Sophia. "Like, in twos or something."

"No that won't work!" Interrupted Veronica, "Granma always says, you go searching a house, you go in threes at least."

Sophia laughed cruelly.

"Oh, yeah? And what would your Granma know? I thought she was a total nutcase?"

"Don't you say anything about my Granma, Sophie!"

"I'm Sophia, featherbrain. I don't care what you say, we are going in pairs. Grandfather says it's the best way to do things, and he is after all, a Colonel." She couldn't help but add pompously.

"All right, Sophia. I suggest we draw lots for pairs."

Cathy led them all into the kitchen where they stood around the preparation table whilst Cathy cut the matches into separate pieces.

"Ready? The two shortest together and the next two shortest together, agreed? I shall go by myself. And I suggest that the two shortest match search the cellar and so on up. I shall search the first floor." She quickly shuffled the matches and held them up. Veronica ended up with Corey, which she looked rather worried about and Sophia was left with Dana, and neither girl looked happy about it.

"Come on everyone. Remember, we're looking for my father's body. This is no time to go exploring the private rooms of the house."

The group nodded and Cathy led them back through to the hall, where she caught sight of Mary Wadsworth by the cloakroom door.

"Can I help you, Aunt Mary?" She asked coldly.

Mary Wadsworth jumped. She had not expected to be seen by Cathy.

"No, Catherine. You can't. I was merely looking for my hair pins, have you seen them?"

"No, Aunt Mary. If you will excuse me, I'm rather busy."

"Ah yes…playing a party game with your little friends. What is it? Wink Eye Murder, perhaps? Or maybe Dead Soldiers?"

Cathy narrowed her eyes at her.

Mary Wadsworth suddenly burst out laughing, and her laugh was similar to her brother's, cruel, cold and slightly evil sounding.

Cathy recoiled, chilled by her Aunt's unmistakably evil-sounding laugh.

"Is that a Wadsworth family trait?" Hissed Dana.

"It must be." Replied Cathy, "Father had a laugh like that, especially when he wanted to be scornful and cunning, but you know, he has a kinder, more sensitive laugh. He just…didn't use it."

"What was that, Catherine?" Demanded Mary, crossly.

"I am having a private conversation."

"Suit yourself, girl. But let me tell you," She came face to face with Cathy, "my brother wasn't as white as you'd like him to be."

"That's ridiculous, he wasn't black!" Veronica stammered.

Cathy rolled her eyes.

"No, not like that, Veronica…"

"You sound exactly like your father when you say that, Catherine."

A muscle twitched in her jaw but she was not going to give Mary Wadsworth the satisfaction of watching her suffer.

"If you don't mind, Aunt Mary, I have work to do."

"My my, a workaholic as well. Watch yourself, Catherine, you'll end up just like him."

Cathy ignored this comment and continued to climb the stairs with Veronica and Corey. Once they reached the first floor, she directed them to the attic.

"If you find anything, give an owl hoot."

"I can't do an owl hoot. I can do a horse neigh, though." Veronica told her.

"Yes, but why on Earth would there be a horse in the house?"

"Oh yes. I see your point. Okay."

"Corey, can you whistle?"

Corey nodded shyly.

"Sure."

"Excellent. Search the attic thoroughly. I am going to search this floor."

Veronica and Corey left her and went to the attic, as dusty and cramped as it was. Cathy, on the other hand, was curious to know if there were any secrets hidden in her parents' bedroom, since she had rarely been allowed in there.

Taking hold of the handle and pushing it down ever so slightly, Cathy entered the master bedroom. It was very much like her own room, neglected, and yet not dusty or dirty. Wadsworth had insisted upon that. The large bed that faced the front windows of the house had been made immaculately and there was not a single crease in the cover. The surfaces of the 'new' furniture were spotless, and Cathy instantly recognised which was her father's side. The neat little pile of books on philosophy, history and Georgian architecture were arranged on a small beside table, along with a small comb and a pair of reading glasses.

On her mothers side the arrangement was much more informal. An old Photoplay magazine grazed the bedside table and her mother's prized gold compact with the charming young lady painted on the front span before a photo-frame bearing a regimented photograph of Wadsworth, Charlotte and Catherine. Wadsworth was standing proudly behind Charlotte who was perched on a quilted bench, Catherine next to her, looking very solemn.

Cathy removed the photo frame and examined it carefully. She remembered the day when it had been taken. Although they hardly ever left Hill House, Wadsworth had once taken them to the nearby bustling town, where a photographer had clamoured to take a photo of them.

Wadsworth had refused at first, demanding that he did not have the time nor expense for such tomfoolery, but the man had insisted that it was a free offer. Rather reluctantly, they had had their photograph taken and since it was the only one, Charlotte treasured it over anything else, apart from her family.

She replaced the photograph back on the side table and walked over to the walk in closet. Tugging at the rusted old handles, she pulled the doors open. The closet was completely in darkness, assisted by the dark garments that hung around her. Cathy recognised her father's many uniforms, as expensively tailored as they were, and her mother's black, grey and brown everyday clothes. Closing the doors of the closet, Cathy moved on to the next door cut into the wall. She was standing in a strange mirrored room, which made it almost impossible to get her bearings. Walking over to the only blank space, Cathy turned the handle, only to discover as her father had fourteen years before, that the handle was actually part of a shower stall.

Soaked through, yet still determined, Cathy tugged at the doorknob, convinced that it was really a door. However, the 'door' did not open, but when she pushed the lever which activated the intensity of the water upward, there was a creak and behind one of the mirrors, a door opened.

"A secret passage!" Cried Cathy excitedly, and bravely climbed in, the door closing behind her. She was standing in a long corridor with old portraits lining the walls.

"Wilfred Adam Boddy, 1604-1657, his son Thomas Allen Boddy, 1628-1642, his wife Marianne Martha Boddy, 1608-1654," Cathy murmured as she proceeded through the corridor, and then at the end of the corridor, where a wooden barred door waited, there was a red cloak and white gloves on the floor, and the cloak was definitely new!

Cathy picked it up and felt the material. Velvet. Expensive velvet…and the white gloves! Silk! Whoever owned them was very wealthy, perhaps they were linked to the strange 'The Noble Rise Forth' dynasty. Cathy wrapped the cloak around her, it was freezing in the passage, and she was soaked through, but as she did so, she had second thoughts. What if the cloak belonged to the murderer?

She slipped it off and pushed hard on the door. With a final heave, it budged and Cathy was able to walk through. She gaped when she recognised her surroundings. How on earth had she ended up in the library?

But there she was. She could hear the adults laughing in the ballroom. They obviously did not care that Wadsworth was dead.

Closing the passage behind her, Cathy sneaked across the hall back upstairs to the other side of the landing, where none of the former guests had explored.

She checked the room where she had found Sophia choking and the bathroom, but they were both empty. Next she tried the other two bedrooms and as she approached the closet in one of them, to her horror, her father fell out!

"Father?" Repeated Cathy, as Wadsworth fell down on the carpet, WITHOUT a dagger in his back and no evidence of a stab wound!


	9. Alive and Alert

Wadsworth suddenly jolted and sat up.

"Catherine! What are you doing in here?"

Cathy was too stunned to reply.

"Father…you're…you're alive?"

"Yes, I have been for the past thirty forty six years of my life."

"But…" Cathy stared at him, "you…"

"Catherine, either explain or do not bother to speak at all." Snapped Wadsworth, crossly. "What's wrong with you, girl? You look as though you've seen a ghost!"

"But you…you can't be…I saw you…I saw the dagger…"

"I beg your pardon Catherine? Perhaps you are ailing for something. I shall get the Professor to examine you."

Wadsworth caught his daughter as she fell back against the wall.

"Catherine, there is something wrong. I demand you tell me the truth."

"Father, there was a body, a body in the hall. Whoever it was, they're dead. It's strange…the body was dressed like you…it had your colour hair and everything…and there was a dagger. A dagger in the back. The Professor and Mr Green moved the body into the study. I came upstairs because Dana told me that…it doesn't matter…and when I returned, the body was gone. Sophia, Miss Mustard," she corrected herself, "then suggested that we split up and search the house."

"hmm." Wadsworth murmured.

"And the dagger had a motto engraved on it. Corey, I mean, Master Green told me what it translated as. _The Noble Rise Forth_"

"_The Noble Rise Forth_? Catherine, that is a family motto. Not ours, before you ask."

"And Father, there's a secret passageway between the library and your room."

"You searched your mother and my room? I've warned you not to go in there."

"But why, Father?"

"You wouldn't understand, you're just a child."

"You have said that before, Father. Why is there so much secrecy and deception in this house? And what happened to those people who came here fourteen years ago?"

"The guests are downstairs, Catherine, as you know."

"What about…Yvonne? And Mary Kravitz? And Jack Harrison?"

"You will refer to them by their pseudonyms, Catherine. Yvette, The Singing Telegram and the Motorist."

"I will refer to them as I see fit, Father. Tell me the truth…you killed them, didn't you?"

"I did nothing of the sort Catherine. They were murdered by those who they had informed upon."

"So, Yvonne…"

"Yvette was murdered by Miss Scarlet."

"Dana's mother murdered Yvonne?"

"Yvette, child. The motorist by the Colonel…"

"Not Sophia's grandfather? The kindly Colonel?"

"The very same. People will do things when they are desperate that they wouldn't normally do."

"And what about the Singing Telegram? Who killed her?"

"I don't know, Catherine. No one knows."

"There must have been one more…another victim. Because there were six weapons."

"Catherine…I warn you. Be very careful of what you say."

"A police officer!"

"The Cop, was killed by…goodness….is that the time? Catherine you should be paying more attention to your hostess skills?"

"But father, if it wasn't you who we found in the hall, then who was it? And who killed them, more to the point?"

"That I don't know, Catherine. It could be anyone at the party. Your party, I might add."

As they left the room, the lights flickered and suddenly the house was plunged into darkness.

"Oh no, not again! Catherine, stay here!" Ordered Wadsworth and he rushed across the landing to the master bedroom, where he knew the secret switch was located.

"Cathy!" Someone called from downstairs, and Cathy, worried for their safety, raced downstairs. She could hear cries from the ballroom, screaming 'let us out!' obviously someone had locked them in. Cathy quickly shut all the doors and ran toward the door of the cellar, where the electricity controls were kept. The door was heavily shut tight, and try as she might Cathy couldn't force it open. She hoped that her father was having better luck, but when the electricity did not return after several minutes she became very concerned. She knew that the only person who had a key to all the doors in her house was her father, and she was sure that he wouldn't have locked his own guests in the ballroom. But where had he been for all that time before and after the 'butler' body was discovered? Something just didn't add up. And where had the cloak and gloves come from? They definitely weren't her mother's, and Miss Scarlet had arrived in a fashionable trenchcoat and grey hand gloves. There were so many clues, but they all headed in different directions. Was there a link?

Cathy raced to the study and threw open the secret passageway. There she found Dana and Veronica, who looked rather frightened.

"What on Earth are you doing here?" Cathy demanded.

"When the lights went off, Veronica got scared. So she said we should hide in here. No one would find us."

"Look, I need your help. You know that body we found in the hall?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, it isn't my father. He's alive!"

"Then who the Hell is the body?"

"First we have to find out the connection between the motto on the dagger, the poisoned brandy and that strange body."

"Not much then." Scoffed Dana.

"Dana, I am deadly serious. Something is going on in this house. And, what are you two doing together? Veronica, I thought you were with Corey?"

"Was I? Sophia dragged him off."

"She did WHAT?"

"Yes. Sophia dragged Corey off. Dunno where she took him."

"Why did you let her, Veronica?"

"She said she'd found a clue."

"What kind of clue?"

"I don't know?"

"Corey might be in danger. I don't suspect for one moment that Sophia's intentions are honourable...it's just…OH GOD! How on earth did she know that Mary was my aunt?"

"Who?"

"Sophia. Earlier she said to me 'your aunt? How can you suspect your aunt?' I have a feeling that she knows more than she's letting on. This time, girls, we have to confront Sophia Mustard."


	10. Mustard and Malice

Cathy, feeling rather nervous attempted to restore the electricity again, but the door was stuck vast. She didn't know what to do next. Everything was so confusing. The so called murder of her Father, the poisoned brandy, the ring, the dagger with the strange motto…nothing connected. And why had her father refused to tell her who killed the cop? She had to do something, she knew, but what? Stumbling a little on the stairs, Cathy led Veronica and Dana to her room, where she hoped that they would be safe. Then, checking that the coast was clear, she tiptoed to her parents' bedroom where Wadsworth was struggling to repair the electricity.

"Father!" She called, and Wadsworth spun around, petrified.

"Don't ever do that again, Catherine! This blasted box is so old there isn't a chance of restoring the electricity tonight."

"Father, I need the house key."

"Catherine, you know not to let anyone leave until we have finished the music performance."

"I need it to let the guests out. Someone has locked them in the ballroom."

"Dear God in Heaven…" Wadsworth sighed, "I shall let them out." He frantically searched his pockets for the key.

"The key, it's gone!"

"Father, don't be ridiculous. You keep it upon your person at all times."

"Do not contradict me, Catherine. The key is gone!"

"Which means…the murderer must have it!"

"What murderer? Catherine?"

"Someone tried to kill you, father. The cognac is poisoned. There was a ring in the bottle."

"You have this ring?" Wadsworth queried, "let me see it."

Cathy pulled the ring out of her apron and dropped it into her father's palm.

"You see, Father?"

Wadsworth collected his reading glasses from the bedside table and put them on, examining the ring with great intrigue.

"It is a female ring. A lady's ring. The owner will have very small fingers."

"Father…Aunt Mary…does she have small fingers?"

"No, Catherine. Mary has very long fingers. They are very bony."

"Could this ring belong to her?"

"I doubt it Catherine. I'd best go and set those poor people free downstairs." And he marched off, leaving Cathy to sort out the mysterious disappearance of Sophia and Corey. Veronica and Dana were waiting agitatedly in her room.

"My Father's going to let the people out downstairs. They've been locked into the ballroom."

"Why?" Questioned Dana.

"Obviously encase someone spotted the murderer."

"Is there a murderer?"

"Yes. There has to be. That body couldn't have been…wait a minute. Veronica! You're a genius!"

"I am?" Veronica repeated enthusiastically.

Cathy led the girls to her parents room where she knew that there was a horrible mannequin usually resting next to the window. But when she pulled the curtains back, the mannequin was gone!

"The body is a fake!" She exclaimed excitedly. "It was a threat. My father was meant to see the body, and he would have panicked. The culprit could have kidnapped him and held him to hostage and no one would have known any different! It all makes sense! No one would have wanted to disturb the body after it was removed from the hall, as you rightfully agreed Dana, touching dead bodies is not something people normally do…but the knife…the dagger…that's still a mystery."

"What was on the knife or the dagger which was so awful?"

"A motto. _The Noble Rise Forth_."

"_The Noble Rise Forth_? Isn't that a military thing?" Questioned Dana.

"Military?" Cathy repeated, curiously.

"Yeah…nobility, being noble, not just like rich or powerful…but brave…you know…"

"How do you know that? Or are you guessing?" Demanded Cathy.

"No, I'm not. Daddy gets a lot of like, retarded soldiers coming into his place, and they all spout garbage about courage and nobility…"

"Courage and nobility? Girls, we have to find Sophia Mustard now! She's been sent to kill us all by her grandfather. But what is her motive?"

"Maybe she doesn't need one…I mean…little secrets…"

"Veronica, I may regret saying this, but you are much more intelligent than people give you credit for. Until my father is dead…the Colonel's secrets can still be discovered. That's why the evidence is missing. My father kept some of the original letters and stuff and fourteen years ago…they must have been clever copies, or forgeries…and I'll bet that there is another secret besides that poppycock about Yvette and the Colonel's affair."

"Like what?" Asked Dana.

"I don't know…what do soldiers normally profit from?"

"Can't think of anything." Admitted Veronica.

"Right. I'll go downstairs, and you two, keep an eye on the attic and the rooms around here. Any sign of movement, make any noise, and for goodness' sake make it loud enough for me to hear. I'm going to announce a 'game' that you and I have created, and we'll see what happens. It's called Evening Reconstruction."

"Never heard of it." Veronica announced, dumbly.

"Of course you haven't. It's not real, she just made it up."

"oh ok. By the way, Miss Wadsworth, is this real, or are we playing?"

"No this is extremely real. And rather dangerous. Watch out for Sophia. She might pretend to be searching for her ring, but believe me, she knows that I have it. Don't allow her to take you anywhere. Stay where I can hear you. I'll send the Professor and Mr Green up if there's trouble."

"What about Corey? What do you think she's done to him?"

"He worked out that that hair we found in the empty box was hers. She's probably locked him in a closet somewhere…in the cellar! Of course!" And with a hasty wave, she rushed back downstairs.

"Father!" She called, and Wadsworth turned around. But it wasn't Wadsworth. It was Mary!

"How kind of you to join us, Catherine."

And she seized Cathy by the scruff of the neck and threw her into the ballroom, before closing the door behind her. In the candlelit darkness, Cathy could just make out the unconscious forms of the other guests.

"The poison! The poison in the Cognac! You did this? But I thought…"

"Sophia? No, Catherine. It was me all along." She threw off the butler's coat revealing her grey dress underneath, and shook her hair loose from the wig. But it wasn't the same chestnut colour as earlier.

"You…who are you?"

'Mary' laughed.

"Don't you recognise the seventh guest, the missing guest of the party fourteen years ago? After all…you've seen the evidence."

"That doesn't explain anything. There was no case file on you. Whoever you are."

'Mary' put on a very strange innocent little girl voice.

"No one recognised dear Miss Brown. Not even Wadsworth himself."

"You? You were the seventh guest? But Father said…"

"Yes…that I never came to the party? I did. But they all agreed to keep it secret, after I'd threatened to expose them all."

"You weren't the blackmailer though. Father was."

"Of course. An alliance with such a convincing con artist does wonders."

"You and my father? Together?"

"Yes, girl. You _do_ look like your father, don't you?"

"What are you here for, Mary?"

"You can stop that, child. Your father and I agreed, after the scheme, we would continue our hold over those pathetic fools, but he had a change of heart. I had to destroy all the evidence, the foolish idiot had kept it all, as though he was waiting for the police to collect him."

"But why? I don't understand? Do you want him dead?"

"Don't be simple, child. Of course I want him dead. He betrayed me. Betrayed our plans…betrayed everything. But I knew that I had to get someone else to take the blame. After all, I want a life of freedom, so I stole that foolish Sophia girl's ring when she removed it after pulling off her gloves, and along with the poison, I accidentally dropped it into the bottle. I simply wanted to poison them all so that they would know what it is to suffer, and then I used the secret passageway from the library to the master bedroom en-suite to grab that mannequin, fit it with clothes, seize the Colonel's army knife which he had brought along to have valued by the Professor, who has a great knowledge of things like that, and stab it into the back. Then I fitted it with this wig," She held it up proudly, "and laid it in the hall, where you found it."

"But where was my father at the time?" Cathy demanded.

"I told the Colonel that there was a collection of military awards in the dining room, and he suggested to Wadsworth that he might like to see them. I knew that the key would probably be upstairs, so whilst he was there, I watched you find that note and order the two men to move him to the study, none of you checked to see whether he was really dead or not." She laughed.

"So that note? It was a ploy? You wanted to send me on a wild goose chase."

"Yes. A red herring, if you like, Catherine. I never imagined that that boy would work out the Latin translation of _The Noble Rise Forth_. But he did, and then when I saw that you'd found that single hair I'd left…"

"I sent Corey to find someone it matched with and I found the singed black gloves."

"Your father's. I used them to shoot the Singing Telegram girl."

"You did that? Why did you kill Mary Kravitz? Father said…"

"He tells you far too much, Catherine. Mary Kravitz was a lunatic, but she had a good talent for singing…as well as gossip. She agreed to be part of the blackmail scheme…but then she began to get very confused…didn't know what was going on…she was dangerous to keep alive. So I shot her."

Cathy was chilled by the woman's blunt and uncaring manner. 'Mary' smiled, and began to comb her hair.

"So that cloak and the silk gloves. They belong to you?"

"I thought I'd leave Thomas a souvenir. Reminding him of his duty to me."

Cathy shuffled nervously and noticed a mock crocodile briefcase next to the piano.

"What is in there?" She asked hesitantly.

"Why don't you come and have a look, Catherine?"

Cathy felt two hard hands on her shoulders and found herself being escorted to the piano, where 'Mary' unlocked the clasps. Inside were six stylish black boxes tied with purple ribbon.

"No! Oh God…six weapons…six victims."

"My, you do catch on quickly, Catherine. Yes. Professor Plum with the revolver, Miss Scarlet who humiliated me with a familiar candlestick…Mr Green, easy…lead pipe…The colonel, and his 'devious' little granddaughter-the wrench…hmm….Mrs White, oh, one of my personal favourites…the rope…Mrs Peacock and her extraordinarily daffy step-granddaughter…which brings me to my two personal favourites-you and your father."

"What are you planning to do with us?"

"I don't know…how would you like to meet your end, Miss Wadsworth?"

Cathy was appalled.

"I don't know…I suppose I hadn't really thought about it…"

"You do have a choice, Catherine…the rope, the dagger…actually that's far too messy…the revolver…lead pipe…candlestick?"

Cathy screamed at the top of her voice.

"No one can hear you, girl. Wadsworth is caught up in that secret passageway and well, I can easily find your little friends."

"You won't, Mary!"

"Won't I? These unconscious forms won't awake for another four hours. By that time, they will all be dead, and no one can point the blame at me. I'll be long gone."


	11. Cordelia and Corruption

"But how did Sophia know that you were my 'aunt'?"

"Mrs White introduced me as Wadsworth's sister. She didn't know what I looked like, and Thomas was so easy to fool, he hadn't seen me or his sister for just over ten years, and with a little training and blackmail on the real Mary Wadsworth, I was able to pull it off."

"So what is your job? An actress?"

"Of sorts, Catherine. I do what I feel. The real Mary Wadsworth would never have been so cruel to her niece, but I couldn't make Wadsworth suspicious. He assumed that his sister would hate his daughter, so I played to that charade."

"And those two officers you came in with?"

"Old friends. Two bumbling crooks from London. They are…"

"Your henchmen?"

"I suppose you might say, yes, Catherine. I kept the guests busy all night, watching them closely until one by one they fell into unconsciousness. Thankfully most of them assumed it was because of the drink, accept that brazen little hussy Sophia Mustard. She tried to convince the remaining guests that they were being poisoned. Luckily I managed to persuade them otherwise. I then took the brat by the arm and marched her straight…oh, no…why should I tell you? It won't make much difference in a few hours."

"Miss Brown, if that is your name, I suggest and demand that you tell me where Sophia is."

"You demand it, do you? Would you like to see your father first? Say a final farewell?"

"Yes. I will see my father."

'Miss Brown' led Cathy over to a hidden closet.

"Catherine, your father."

Wadsworth tumbled out, rigid as a board.

"Father!" Cathy cried, desperately, kneeling at his side.

"He won't wake." 'Miss Brown' explained, carelessly, "he's far too sedated for that. It does mean, however, that he won't see me slit your Mother's throat, although that would be a pretty sight…"

Wadsworth suddenly began to stir.

"Cordelia…let…her go…."

Miss Brown kicked him hard.

"Get up and fight, Wadsworth! Show me what you're made of!"

Wadsworth stumbled to his feet.

"Let the child go. This has nothing to do with her!"

"Since she's your daughter, yes she does," Miss Brown spat, "how could you betray me, after everything…EVERYTHING I did for you?"

"That was a long time ago, Cordelia…you were…obsessed."

"Obsessed with you? Don't flatter yourself, Wadsworth! You honestly imagine the likes of me would fall head over heels for a butler like you?"

"But you did love me. I just didn't love you."

Cordelia's jaw twitched.

"And WHY not? Why did you make such a fool of me at the party? Why did you threaten me and hurt me?"

Cathy stared at Miss Brown in bewilderment. Had she been too blinded by her father's so called truth that she had never considered Miss Brown's part in the events which had occurred?

"I did what I had to do." Wadsworth explained calmly, "You were a pretentious child!"

"But I _loved _you! I would have done anything for you! I…I…" she suddenly seized Cathy and expertly fitted the noose around Cathy's throat.

"No! Catherine!" Wadsworth protested desperately.

"I'll show you what blue blood is, Wadsworth…the blood you chose was dirty, corrupted…have me as your wife…and I'll let her go."

"What? I can't marry you! I am already married, you stupid girl!"

"I'm not YOUR girl anymore, Wadsworth. You chose to marry a black widow!"

"Yes, and with good reason. To escape your obsession and pretence!"

"Then give me one kiss and I'll let you go. I need to…complete what I set out to do."

Cathy shuddered; Miss Brown's voice was slow and dreamlike as though she found it difficult to distinguish reality from fiction.

Wadsworth looked from Cathy to Miss Brown, recalling the distressing events of 1954 when Miss Brown had arrived at the house only to be scorned, punished and threatened by him. And yet it was she…SHE who had demanded to escape the house…demanded to be set free…Wadsworth knew that his former obsessed informant was severely deluded and required psychiatric treatment, and he knew of one person who would be able to convince her not to kill Cathy.

"Cordelia…I will agree to your terms, however you must administer the antidote to Professor Plum forthwith."

Cordelia scoffed.

"I am no fool. You think I am mad! You think that I am some toy you can take out for your amusement, well I'm not! I am NO-ONE's toy, not even my father's! Why are you doing this to me, Wadsworth? Do you enjoy hurting me?"

Her words chilled Cathy and Wadsworth; Wadsworth recognised that it was the same speech as she had used when he had threatened her in the library, and Cathy was aware that time was running out.

Seizing his chance, Wadsworth seized Miss Brown and kissed her, Cathy slipping the noose from around her neck as he did so.

"Well…this is where it all ends, I'm sorry." Cathy stepped back and watched as Miss Brown raised the dagger ready to strike Wadsworth in the back.

"No! Father!" she screamed, as Wadsworth struggled to get free, "Father, call me Cathy, please call me Cathy!"

Miss Brown's eyes were wide and blazing, showcasing her insanity, and the dagger trembled in her fist. She held Wadsworth tight to her, singing a song to herself.

"_Goodnight, sweetheart, well, it's time to go,_

_Goodnight, sweetheart, well, it's time to go,_

_I hate to leave you, but I really must say,_

_Goodnight, sweetheart, goodnight."_

Wadsworth tensed, poised ready for the blow which would end his life, but as Cordelia brought the dagger down, Cathy pushed Wadsworth out of the way and seized the dagger, gripping it tight with Cordelia still clutching it.

"No you don't child!" Miss Brown screeched.

Cathy struggled to take control of the dagger, but the hatred in Miss Brown's eyes told her that one wrong move and she would be killed.

Wadsworth was unsure as to what to do. Cathy was risking her life for him, and Cordelia…well…had the intention to kill.

"Cordelia, that's enough!" he exclaimed suddenly.

For a moment the conflict ceased, and then Cordelia began to sing again:

"_Now, my mother and my father,_

_Might hear if I stay here too long,_

_One kiss and we'll part,_

_And you'd be going,_

_Although I hate to see you go."_

She dropped the dagger.

Cathy seized it and handed it to her father, backing as far away from Miss Brown as possible.

"I'm sorry," Miss Brown murmured, "we can't both live…"

Wadsworth's eyes widened.

"Cordelia, what are you talking about?" He asked coaxingly.

Cordelia looked at the stylish boxes, stroking each one in turn.

"A candlestick…too violent…a lead pipe, bent…a rope…noosed…a dagger…cut from the noble heart…the revolver…a sharp end…the poison…suffering."

"Father, what is she doing?" Cathy asked anxiously.

"I don't know, Catherine."

Cordelia plucked a single rose from the vase on the piano and began to pick off its petals, one by one.

"One for if you loved me…one if you didn't…"

"Cordelia…stop."

Cordelia ignored him, continuing to pluck the petals from the rose. When she had finished she pierced the tip of her ring finger on a thorn.

"Wadsworth…this is for you." And she traced her bleeding finger down his left cheek. "You carry my blood on your hands," she clutched at his left hand leaving an imprint of blood on it.

"Cordelia, I'm…"but she stopped his mouth with her finger.

Turning to the boxes, she began to undo them one by one.

"Take your pick." She told Cathy.

Cathy stepped back against the wall.

"I couldn't…I'm sorry."

Cordelia drew out a small bottle of white powder and tipped it into her wine glass.

"No!" Cried Wadsworth and Cathy and unison, but they were powerless.


	12. Corey and Courtship

Cordelia's body was tactfully removed to the cellar of the house and locked up by Wadsworth, who insisted that she would be quite safe until the ambulance people arrived.

The children were later discovered having a secret party with Sophia in Cathy's room with stolen drink from the cupboard in the dining room. Sophia had stolen the key from Wadsworth's pocket earlier in the evening and had seized the opportunity to steal the drink whilst they were searching the house.

"So," began Cathy, upon the discovery, "_so_."

"Gee, you won't tell my Grandpop will ya?" Asked Sophia worriedly.

"Give me a reason why I shouldn't?"

"Um…cos we'll share the drink?"

"Oh, don't be pathetic, Sophia. You're very fortunate that my father hardly ever…"

"CATHERINE! WHERE ARE MY KEYS?"

"Well now…what do I do?"

"You tell him…um?"

Cathy rolled her eyes.

"Give me the key, Sophia."

"It's the set, you know."

"Then give me the set, please."

Sophia handed her the keys.

"Now what's the plan, smart-ass?"

"Well, firstly, I return these keys to the rightful owner and secondly, you get some elocution lessons, there is a business card on the telephone table. Dr Poole, in New York City."

"Oh yeah? But I'm a colonel's granddaughter." Scoffed Sophia.

"And my father once worked for a Lord and Lady, it does not mean that you don't need elocution lessons."

"Okay, who is this Dr Poole guy?"

"He is a celebrated elocutionist and linguist; even H.L Mencken admitted that he had competition."

"Still not bothered…"

"His wife appeared in _Photoplay_ with him."

Sophia's face lit up.

"Sign me up at the double!"

Cathy smiled and ran downstairs to return the keys to her Father.

"There you are…honestly, Catherine, you are meant to be punctual."

"Sorry, Father, I had to discuss something with Sophia."

"Indeed. Catherine, I would like you to take this envelope and read it aloud."

"To Catherine Jane Wadsworth." Cathy read.

The guests turned to her.

"I hereby award Catherine Jane Wadsworth the sum of $5000 and educational expenses for the school of her choice."

The guests cheered and Cathy felt her eyes prickling. She blinked them away, she had never cried, and she wasn't going to start now.

"Well, thank you so much Mrs Peacock, I must say, I am awfully grateful to you. I've always wanted to go to school. I'll do my best and make you proud."

"You're welcome, m'dear. I'm only too pleased to help."

"Young lady, I can't thank you enough for what you've done for all of us. Your father is so proud. He doesn't say much, but ya must know that?" Colonel Mustard asked.

"Yes…I think I do." Cathy smiled at her Father across the room.

"Come on, Cathy, it's the Twist!" Dana tugged at Cathy's sleeve.

"Excuse me, Colonel, sir."

Cathy followed Dana into the ballroom and found Corey standing there.

"Hey." He murmured shyly.

"Hello."

"Woulyaliedodancewime?" Corey gabbled.

Cathy giggled.

"Would I like to dance with you? Certainly."

Cathy took hold of Corey's hands and together they waltzed around the room.

"Hey, Ginger and Fred!" called Sophia, bringing them back to reality, "that stuff is old and boring. Liven it up a bit!"

"Like what?" asked Veronica Peacock with a puzzled expression.

"I don't know…some Beatles?"

"How about…_She Loves You, Yeah Yeah Yeah_!" Veronica sang very off-key causing Dana to squirm.

Sophia put the record on the record player and showed Corey and Cathy how to dance to it. Neither of them liked it very much, and when Wadsworth told Sophia 'to turn off that blasted racket' she did so, and Corey and Cathy retreated to the conservatory.

"You're very pretty, Cathy." Corey announced suddenly.

"Thank you, you are most kind, but I must disagree. I am hardly a beauty, not like Dana."

"Dana isn't pretty." Corey told her, taking her hand, "You are."

Cathy smiled.

"Come with me."

She opened the secret passage from the conservatory to the lounge and they began to walk the length of it, until Cathy revealed an old staircase built into the wall. Corey followed her eagerly, climbing for what seemed like forever until they reached the top.

Cathy unlatched the trapdoor and threw it back, exposing the night sky in all its glory.

"Wow!" Corey exclaimed, "What is this place?"

Cathy pulled him up onto the flat roof.

"This is the very top of the house. My paradise." She indicated some old moth-eaten cushions she had placed against the rails of the roof.

"It's so…vast." Corey sighed, walking across the roof to where she sat.

"There's room enough for two, you know." Cathy patted a cushion.

"Thanks." Corey obediently sat.

"My father once brought me up here…he told me all about the stars." Cathy explained with a wistful look.

"I didn't really know my father," Corey admitted, "Uncle Matthew…Mr Green as you know him, he's looked after me ever since I can remember…but I don't mind."

"My father didn't have much time for me when I was little. He just wanted me to be a housemaid; he didn't care about my dreams, my aspirations. Only fools have dreams, he said."

"Is it still like that, Cathy?"

"No, Father's learnt to accept me for who I am."

"So what do you want to do?"

"Well…I'd like…to become a teacher."

"Keen. What kind of teacher?"

"Um…an English teacher?"

"Wow…I didn't expect that…that is…swell."

"Swell?"

"Keen, good…" Corey laughed.

Cathy laughed too. She had only ever been taught to speak in an English accent and American words were another language to her.

"You know, people say you're like your Father, but you're not. You're totally different people."

"Thank you for that sentiment, I'm used to people saying 'goodness, aren't you a younger version of your father' or 'my word, you are a copy of your father…your posture, the way you smile…"

"But you have a pretty smile. Like your Mother, not like your Father. He has…"

"A Cheshire cat smile?"

"What's a Cheshire cat?"

"You haven't read Alice in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll?" Cathy retorted, her eyes wide.

"Nope." Corey replied simply, retying his shoelace.

"That was one of the first books Father ever read to me."

"I've seen the movie. Does that count?"

Cathy frowned.

"Is that all that matters now? Pop music and Movies?"

Corey attempted to touch her shoulder but she shrugged it away.

"I want a better life than TV and Movies. I want to make something of it. To be remembered."

"As an English teacher?"

"Maybe. Does it really matter? I just want to make a difference somehow." Cathy crossed to the front of the roof. "I just wish my Father would understand that service is a choice, not an obligation."

"You think he's obsessed by his job?"

"He's been in the butler profession for years, Corey. I don't believe he has ever had another job. Buttling is a difficult profession; it means you are devoting yourself entirely to the service of others. Others who might abuse or insult you."

"Good point, but I don't get it."

"Corey, perhaps it is time for my Father to retire."

"Retire? He's only…what?"

"I don't even know. He won't talk about his past. It's shrouded in mystery."

"Still…that woman…Mary Wadsworth…she's gone, hasn't she?"

Cathy turned away.

"I…Corey…she tried to poison herself."

"Jeez. Cathy, I'm sorry we couldn't help you…we were caught up."

"Yes, I know. In Sophia's drinks party in my room. Very supportive. Very responsible." Cathy set her jaw.

"Cathy, I'm trying…I'm trying to say…"

"Don't say it. Please don't say…I'm twelve years old…you're thirteen…we have no idea…we are just friends."

Corey stepped back as though he'd just been shot at.

"But I thought…"

"No." Cathy informed him firmly.

"Cathy, you can't let your father keep you prisoner."

As though awoken from a spell, Cathy turned around.

"I've made excuses for my Father for my whole life. Now it's my turn to choose."

She embraced Corey and they raced downstairs to rejoin the other guests.

"Father, I must ask…when I go to school, it is my choice to decide what I study?"

"Within reason, Catherine."

"What do you mean? You have kept me virtually a prisoner in my own home!"

Wadsworth's face faltered.

"I have done what I thought was best for you, Catherine."

"But Father, this is not the twenties, this is 1968, and you should know by now, your profession…it has declined…"

"Are you suggesting that I retire, Catherine?"

"Yes, Father. To save you from yourself."

Wadsworth placed his hands on his daughter's shoulders.

"Thank you, Catherine."

Cathy smiled at her father and he smiled back, and it wasn't as Cathy had described- 'a Cheshire Cat smile' but a sincere, warm one, which caused Cathy to throw her arms around her Father's waist and hug him tight.

Wadsworth looked slightly shocked but at a glance from his wife, held Cathy close.

Charlotte came and joined them and Wadsworth held his family around him, kissing the top of Cathy's head.

Mr Green began to clap, and the other guests joined in. The family had been restored to its former glory and with the generous donation from Mrs Peacock, life would be much easier to deal with.

Dana stood up on a chair and Sophia put on a record.

"Wouldn't It Be Nice…"

"If we were older?  
Then we wouldn't have to wait so long  
And wouldn't it be nice to live together  
In the kind of world where we belong  
You know its gonna make it that much better  
When we can say goodnight and stay together  
Wouldn't it be nice if we could wake up  
In the morning when the day is new  
And after having spent the day together  
Hold each other close the whole night through  
The happy times together we've been spending  
I wish that every kiss was never ending...  
Wouldn't it be nice?  
Maybe if we think and wish and hope and pray... it might come true  
Baby, then there wouldn't be a single thing we couldn't do...  
We could be married and then we'd be happy,  
Wouldn't it be nice?  
You know it seems the more we talk about it  
It only makes it worse to live without it  
But let's talk about it...  
Wouldn't it be nice?"

"Cathy, you want to dance?" Asked Corey nervously.

Cathy looked from her Father to her mother. Wadsworth raised his eyebrows and smiled.

"Yes, I will."

Corey was delighted that Cathy had agreed.

"Oh Cathy, would you consider…"

Cathy stepped on his foot firmly.

"I told you. No."

Corey smiled.

"You fancy me, Miss Prim."

Cathy struggled to hide her blushing cheeks.

"No I don't. Don't be so ridiculous."

"You do. It's obvious."

"No I don't it's just…the room is warm…I have flames, on the side of my face…" She raised her hands to her cheeks.

Charlotte offered her hand to Wadsworth.

"You want to dance?"

"Yes, I will." Wadsworth agreed and they began to waltz, despite the upbeat music. Dana raced to the record player and took off the record, settling for Sh-Boom instead.

The older guests laughed when they heard the introduction and the younger guests looked confused-what was so funny?

"Mom, what's funny?" Dana asked Joanna Scarlet.

"Well, baby, fourteen years ago, we set up a stooge in the house so that a cop wouldn't find the dead bodies."

Dana pouted a little and her eyes narrowed.

"Don't do that baby, you'll encourage wrinkles."

"Thanks Mom."

Dana, Philip and Joanna watched as Wadsworth and Charlotte whirled seamlessly around the floor, closely followed by Corey and Cathy.

At last they could put the whole sorry affair of 1954 behind them, and begin a new life.


End file.
